


Captains on Vacation

by eiriyuki



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Beach Volleyball, Comedy, Dancing, Drinking, Haikyuu Captains, M/M, Pretty Setter Squad, Slow Burn, idk how to explain but this is very ~adult~ without many explicitives, kuroo curses a lot though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:41:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25537480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eiriyuki/pseuds/eiriyuki
Summary: It's time for a trip with the lads!Kuroo Tetsuro is in a slump, looking forward to some time away.Oikawa Tooru is looking exceptionally beautiful after years of distance.Sawamura Daichi has worked hard to put together this trip for his friends.Bokuto Kotaro is full of energy and pina coladas.And Ushijima Wakatoshi is also... There!
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Kuroo Tetsurou/Oikawa Tooru, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 21
Kudos: 153





	Captains on Vacation

_ Vacation, all I ever wanted 🎵 _

_ Vacation, had to get away 🎶 _

_ Vacation, meant to be spent alone 🎵 _

  
  


“Vacation, all I ever wanted! Vacation, haaad to get awaay,” Bokuto Kotaro sings along to the song playing over the airport speakers. Dragging his rolling suitcase behind him, he also lets out a little dance as he wiggles his hips. 

“Dude, can you calm down?” Kuroo Tetsuro asks, trying to keep up with Bokuto’s grooving pace. “Thanks to Daichi, we’re here two hours before our flight. I think we can slow down.”

“Slow down? The vacation just started!” Bokuto continues his speed walking, making a delighted sound as they approach a people walker. He sprints onto the conveyor belt and it increases his speed tenfold. Looking back at the group behind him he shouts, “Slow me down now!” 

“Ugh, I hate that guy,” Kuroo groans, adjusting the pillow he is holding beneath his arm. 

Sawamura Daichi chuckles as he catches up to him, his duffle bag slung casually over his shoulder. “I’ve learned with people like that, you just gotta let them go.” 

“Oh, really, is that how you managed those crows?” Kuroo yawns deeply as he speaks, grouchiness playing at the edge of his tone. Looking behind Daichi, he sees Ushijima Wakatoshi lumbering along in their trail. Before he can catch up with them, Kuroo asks, “Why did you invite him again?” 

“He’s part of the group,” Daichi explains matter-of-factly.

“Is he though?” Kuroo examines the approaching figure with uncertainty. He doesn’t think he’d ever shared more than a few words with the guy. 

“Well, he accepted the invite, right?” Daichi shrugs in reply. 

The three of them finally catch up to Bokuto at the designated terminal for their flight to Montevideo, Uruguay. They have a long travel time ahead of them, and Kuroo is already regretting staying up late the night before. 

“I already miss my cat,” Kuroo announces as he joins his friend, sitting in the seat next to him.

“Aww, I bet she misses you too,” Bokuto replies in support.

“Doubtful. I’m sure she’ll enjoy the peace.” 

As they converse, a group of people whisper excitedly amongst themselves a little bit away. Amongst the words being said,  _ Bokuto _ is the word that raises their attention. Looking over, both of them see a young boy part from his family with their encouraging nudges. 

“B-Bokuto-san? Hi, can I… have your autograph?” The boy asks nervously, his eyes sparkling as he looks up at him. 

Bokuto meets his eyes with a matching sparkle, taking the pen and paper that is offered to him. “What’s your name little dude?”

“Hiro…” The little boy is shy, clinging to the skirt of his mother who has just approached. 

“To Hiro-kun…” Bokuto mumbles as he scribbles the words. In large bubble letters he scrawls  _ BOKUTO BEEEAM _ , followed by his signature. 

The boy is speechless as he gets the scrap of paper back. Kuroo is trying to ignore the moment by settling into his chair, propped on his pillow. 

“Do you play volleyball?” Bokuto asks Hiro in a kind voice. 

Hiro nods his head vigorously, warming up to the idea of talking to his idol. Kuroo can’t help but watch the whole scene play out, feeling a slight warmth in his chest. Seeing young children with an interest in volleyball always brings him joy, even if his head is throbbing from sleep exhaustion. 

From out of nowhere a cup of coffee hovers in front of his face, the grumpy expression lighting up into excitement. Taking the coffee that is offered to him, he looks at Daichi with gratitude filling his eyes. “How did you know?”

“The bags under your eyes have bags,” Daichi explains, taking a sip of his own coffee. 

“I could kiss you right now,” Kuroo says in a dramatic voice before blowing at the steam that is streaming out of the small opening on the lid. 

“Please don’t,” Daichi replies seriously, clearly not wanting to joke about something like that. 

This makes Kuroo want to joke about it even more, so he collapses to the side and falls onto Daichi with a heavy sigh, “But Daichiii, how else can I repay you?” 

“Dude, quit it,” Daichi chuckles as he shakes him away. “You know I’m literally married.” 

“Ugh, don’t remind me… All of you guys are taken, it’s not fair!” Kuroo pouts as he straightens back into a normal seating position, both hands clutching his coffee to his mouth. 

“I’m single,” Ushijima interjects from Daichi’s right. He had been so silent the whole time, Kuroo had forgotten he was there. 

Shooting forward, Kuroo casts Ushijima a targeted glance. “You know what…? I’ll think about it, buddy.” 

“Wait, what…?” A confused blush spreads across his face, which is enough of a reward for Kuroo’s antics. 

“You do know we’re all gay, right?” Daichi asks him in a concerned voice, and Kuroo knows it is because Ushijima has no idea what he’s gotten himself into by agreeing to this trip. 

“Um, excuse you! Check your gay privilege, Daichi.” Bokuto must have been listening in on the conversation despite the fact that he’d settled back with his headphones on. Ripping them down, he continues, “Some of us are pan, ya know?” 

“My gay  _ wha-.” _

“Yeah, and some of us are bi. Why are you trying to erase us, Daichi?” Kuroo interrupts before Daichi can finish. 

Now looking flustered, it’s Daichi’s turn to blush in confusion as he tries to stammer his response, “I-I wasn’t trying to erase anyo-.”

“Eht, eht, eht, shhh,” Kuroo shushes as he waves his hand to stop Daichi’s words. “It’s okay, we’re used to it.” 

Daichi mumbles something incoherent into the coffee he lifts to his lips. Finishing his sip, he brings it down and says coolly, “I’m sorry.” 

“We’re just messin’ with ya,” Kuroo replies with a smirk. 

“Does Daichi need a hug?” Bokuto asks, standing abruptly and walking over to him. 

“No, I-.” Daichi’s face shows fear as Bokuto’s shadow casts over him. 

“It’s okay, buddy, bring it in.” 

As Bokuto leans down to hug Daichi who is still seated in a chair, Kuroo slides in from the left to hug his middle. A few whispers erupt from onlookers and passers by. Kuroo thinks he feels a small pat from Ushijima on Daichi’s back, but he probably imagined it. 

“You know what, I did need that,” Daichi says as the awkward group hug disbands. He yawns, letting a sleepy tear roll out of his cheek. 

“Did you have a late night too?” Kuroo asks with a smirk. 

“A late night bangin’ Sugawara goodbye!” Bokuto chortles as he sits back down, accepting the fist bump that Kuroo offers him. 

“Oh my god, is this going to be the whole trip?” Daichi asks with a pained face, sinking further into his seat. More people are starting to gather at the terminal as their flight time nears, and Bokuto and Kuroo are anything but quiet. 

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, dude, I did the same.”

“You banged Sugawara last night too?” Kuroo asks, challenging Bokuto’s choice of words. “I’m telling Akaashi.”

“No, Kuroo, I was actually banging your dad.” Not missing a beat, Bokuto gives his retort and slides his headphones back on. 

“You’re disgusting,” Kuroo says. 

Bokuto makes a shrugging gesture and points at his headphones, signaling he can’t hear him. 

Reaching over, Kuroo pulls on one side of his headphones and loudly repeats in his ear, “I said you’re disgusting!” 

“Dude, be quiet, I can hear you.” Bokuto shoots him a feigned look of confusion. 

“Can you guys please be quiet for five minutes?” Daichi asks, using his coffee-free hand to rub his temple. 

  
  


“I wonder why that little kid didn’t want my autograph.” Ushijima’s voice sounds thoughtful as it floats over after several moments of silence. This jostles Kuroo slightly as he realizes his eyes have been drifting to a close. He blinks a few times to get the sandy feeling out. 

“Bokuto is probably just more recognizable out of his jersey,” Daichi says. He has a good way of consoling people without sounding condescending. 

“Should I do something interesting with my hair?” Ushijima asks seriously. 

“What? No, you look great the way you are. It’s a classic look. Besides, do you want to be recognized everywhere you go?” Daichi shakes the cup in his hand to feel how much coffee he has left, and downs the rest in a gulp. 

“I guess you’re right,” Ushijima responds, but he doesn’t sound convinced. 

“Why aren’t you ever this nice to me, Daicchan?” Kuroo asks with slumped shoulders. “You have a classic handsome look too, you know.”

“You have to earn it first, and please never call me that again.” 

“What, handsome?” Kuroo raises his brow in exaggeration. 

“No, not that, the other thing.” 

“Oh, so I can call you handsome?” Kuroo winks at him. His platonic flirting has always come naturally, and it’s the only thing keeping him awake right now. 

Daichi’s forehead lands in his palm. “I am not sitting next to you on the plane.” 

As he is saying this, a pleasant voice starts speaking over a microphone, signaling the time for boarding. The four of them stand, adjusting their carry ons to prepare for the boarding process. 

“Does everyone have their boarding passes ready?” Daichi asks, looking at every hand. 

“Yes, dad,” Kuroo says as he rolls his eyes, reaching in his pocket. He struggles for a moment to find it, panicking inwardly for a moment. Remembering he put it in his other pocket, he pulls it out confidently and shows it to him. “See?”

The group boards the plane for the start of a very long journey across the Pacific Ocean. The way they end up seated is exactly to Daichi’s liking. Bokuto, Kuroo, Ushijima, and Daichi. The three on his right in order from quietest to loudest. 

As soon as they’re settled in their seats, Kuroo pulls a black sleep mask out of his pillow case. Putting it on, he props his pillow behind his head and falls asleep in the matter of moments. 

The trip goes smoothly, despite the two layovers they have on the way. Kuroo lets himself get more excited for the trip as they near their location. They keep their seating positions for the most part, except on the last leg when Bokuto gets separated from the group. 

When they finally land in Montevideo, Kuroo wants to kiss the ground like people used to do after long voyages. They wait for Bokuto to come off the plane last due to where he was sitting. When they see him, Hiro is sitting on his shoulders with a bright smile. His mother is trailing behind looking slightly worried, but elated for her son. 

As he joins the group after saying his goodbyes, he tells them, “You know what? I think I want one.”

“What, like a pet?” Kuroo asks with a snort. 

“No, like a little baby Bokuto and Akaashi.” Bokuto spins his carryon suitcase in a few 360 degree motions. 

“You guys can’t make a baby,” Kuroo continues in a mockingly serious tone. 

“Duh! But, like, it would gain both of our personalities…” 

“You’re still talking about it like it’s a pet.” Kuroo has lost his composure at this point and is laughing with every word. 

“Shut up! I’m gonna ask Akaashi about it when I get home!” Bokuto kicks at the back of Kuroo’s legs. 

Kuroo is pretty sure that Akaashi will react in a way similar to him, but at the age his friends are getting to… Nothing is surprising him anymore. All of his friends had been pairing off, or living their dreams, or both. So busy with their own perfect lives that they don’t have as much time for Kuroo and his antics anymore. And making new friends as an adult is much harder than imagined; mainly because Kuroo can’t seem to separate friends from friends with benefits. 

When Daichi suggested this trip, Kuroo immediately jumped at the excuse of a distraction. Lately, his life seems to be hovering in between chaotic and just plain boring. He lives alone in his own apartment, but the space next to him in bed was rarely empty. His job in the volleyball association is enough to keep him busy without the need of a serious relationship. 

The flings he had had in the past lasted only a few weeks at most, and he was starting to prefer it that way. Despite looking for  _ any _ fish in the sea, none of them stuck around. They either didn’t live up to Kuroo’s expectations, or exceeded them and walked away themselves. 

As for friends, he sees Kenma plenty. Their friendship has always been concrete and secure. But he longs for the days when it was these guys, every weekend, doing something stupid or reckless. For the most part, because he still doesn’t remember if Ushijima had been there or not. 

Oikawa Tooru, however, had definitely been there. The excitement to see him suddenly dawns on Kuroo, and his energy increases. Looking at his phone, he sees free wifi available and connects to it. Pulling up his email app, he starts a message to Oikawa. 

The eagle has landed. And by eagle I mean Ushijima Wakatoshi is here too. Did you know he was coming? 

Sent from my Android

He looks at Daichi and asks, “Where to next?”

Daichi has his planner out in front of him. Without looking up from it, he says, “Next, we go pick up our bags. Then we go to the car rental place.”

As they start to make their way through the Carrasco International Airport, Kuroo has another question, “Wait, does anyone know how to drive?”

Bokuto and Ushijima look to Daichi expectantly. He drops his shoulders with a sigh and says, “Yes, I know how to drive.”

Before they leave the wifi signal, Kuroo gets an email notification. 

What? Who invited him? :( 

I’m already at the house, it’s super nice!! Can’t wait to see you. 

Regards,

**Oikawa Tooru**

  
  


As they approach the black SUV they rented, the sun greets them with intensity. 

Bokuto slides his sunglasses on and merrily proclaims, “We made it, boys! Welcome to U R GAY!”

“Is that seriously why you insisted on coming here?” Daichi asks with a groan. 

“I have no regrets, this weather is beautiful,” Bokuto responds as he lifts his suitcases and places them on top of the others piled in the back of the SUV. 

Kuroo is doubled over in laughter, struggling to catch a full breath of air. 

  
  


Once they’re finally settled in the rental car, Bokuto and Kuroo kick back in the backseat. Ushijima tries to work the navigation system as Daichi starts the car. A pleasant AI voice comes on the speakers directing where Daichi needs to go to get to the Airbnb they rented for the next ten days. Kuroo glances at the screen to see it’s a thirty minute drive to their destination, and he groans. He’s beyond tired of sitting. 

“Are we there yet?” He whines after only a few minutes, and is met with a death glare in the rearview mirrors. Daichi’s eyes look so travel worn that he could kill a man. 

Deciding it’s best to stay quiet, Kuroo pulls out his phone, despite the depleted battery and lack of reception. He pulls the most recent email up again and smiles, repeatedly reading the last sentence a few times. Kuroo rolls down the window next to him and lets his hand feel the warm humid air. The scenery they see leaving the airport is hardly impressive, with a few trees here and there lining the neighborhoods of Uruguay. 

As they finally enter the city, the architecture takes a turn for the interesting. Tall buildings with arching columns erecting into the sky and beautiful fountains with carved stone statues catch Kuroo’s eye. He watches the busy streets full of people walking their way through the city and feels a bit homesick, missing the Tokyo streets he is so accustomed to. 

After making their way through the heart of the city, they turn onto the beachside road that stretches all the way around the bay. Bokuto is the closest to the scene, and he presses his face against the glass of the window to get a better look. 

“The water is so sparkly,” he says with an awe struck voice, as if he’d never seen the ocean before. 

The navigation finally signals their destination is approaching, and Kuroo can’t wait to get out to stretch his legs more. They pull into the drive of a cute little house that is built with rustic bricks. As the engine is cut and Kuroo scrambles as quickly as he can out of the car to stretch, the front door opens and Oikawa emerges. He is wearing a faded blue tank top and cargo shorts. 

Kuroo rushes to the familiar face with a wide grin and open arms. Going to accept the hug, Oikawa is caught off guard when Kuroo lifts him up onto his shoulder instead, spinning them in circles. 

Giggles erupt from Oikawa as he begs, “Let me down! Please!” 

When his feet finally reconnect with the ground, they are almost jostled off of it again as Bokuto slams into him with his own hug. It’s a great big bear hug that shakes him back and forth as Bokuto chants, “Oi, Oi, Oi!” 

Daichi joins the circle, giving Oikawa a firm handshake and a “Good to see ya.” 

“You too, bud.” As the handshake breaks, they immediately go in for a fist bump. 

Ushijima busies himself with getting the luggage out of the trunk, probably to avoid an awkward greeting. He has all of the bags out of the trunk, and most of them strapped to him to carry inside. Silently, he walks in with four duffle bags hanging over his neck and two suitcases in each hand. It seems like an unnecessary show of strength in Kuroo’s opinion, but he doesn’t actually want to carry in his own luggage so he doesn’t care. 

Walking inside, the interior design is just as rustic as the outside. The main room has hardwood floors and an entertainment center, and the kitchen has stainless steel appliances and granite counter tops. 

“I took the room with the double bed since I got here first,” Oikawa announces. “There are two other rooms with two single beds each.” 

“I’m not sharin’ with Bokuto again, he snores so loud,” Kuroo says, casting a glance toward Daichi. “Daichi…”

“Absolutely not, Ushijima is with me.” Daichi grabs his bags and makes his way to a room to claim. Ushijima follows behind like an obedient puppy. 

“Oikawa, you said you have a double bed…?” Kuroo inquires with a smirk and a raised brow. 

“Pfft, you gotta buy me dinner first,” Oikawa jokes back. He had always been quick with his rebuttals to Kuroo’s incessant flirting. 

“I would buy you the fanciest dinner this city has to offer if it meant sharing a bed with you.” 

Kuroo realizes he is only half-joking at this statement, and has to swallow back an awkward laugh. Oikawa is looking at him speculatively when Bokuto interrupts them by shoving his phone in the space between them.

“Can someone  _ please _ help me figure out the wi-fi? I haven’t talked to Keiji in like a day and a half…” His eyes are desperate as he waves his hand up and down. 

“Sure, here,” Oikawa says as he rips his gaze away from Kuroo and takes the offered phone. 

“Welp, I need a shower and a ten hour nap… Wake me up if anything interesting happens.” Kuroo makes his escape to the room he deduces is the one meant for him and Bokuto. As he passes the room Oikawa has claimed, he notices the door is open and glances at the bed with Oikawa’s luggage piled on top.

He feels that if someone were to catch him looking at these things, he would get in trouble for some reason. He falls onto one of the beds in the room with a heavy groan, still tired from the extensive plane ride. Beside the dragging feeling of sleepiness, he feels another dragging in his chest that he can’t decipher. He winds up falling asleep there with his legs dangling off the end of the bed, never making it to the shower. 

  
  
  


By the time Kuroo wakes up, it has to be early morning at some point. The light seeping through the cracks in the curtains is a soft white and the beams aren’t bright enough to signal that the sun is on the west side of the house that the room is facing. After analyzing all of this, Kuroo stands from the bed with an incredible stretch that he feels throughout his entire body. 

His head feels itchy and his mouth feels grimy due to his lack of personal hygiene, so he fishes through his bag for his toiletries. A lump beneath the covers on Bokuto’s bed snores loudly, and remains undisturbed as Kuroo digs for an outfit.

The shower rejuvenates him even more than the many hours of sleep he just got, the warm water awakening every pore in his body. Refreshed and in a clean pair of clothes, Kuroo fluffs the back of his hair up with some gel to style it. 

As he exits the bathroom, he smells something delicious wafting in from the direction of the kitchen. Kuroo’s eyes fixate on the closed door to Oikawa’s bedroom the entire time he passes it, and he can’t shake the feeling that it’s wrong of him. 

Daichi and Ushijima are busy in the kitchen when Kuroo arrives, looking over the spread of food they are working over. Kuroo can’t help but laugh at the sight of both of them wearing flour covered aprons. In fact, he appreciates it so much, he takes out his phone to snap a few candids.

“This is going in the album for sure,” he says as he clicks through them. 

He sits on one of the barstools that overlooks the kitchen and watches the two of them work, slowly sipping on a cup of coffee. After a few minutes, a sleepy faced Oikawa joins him. He is still wearing PJ pants and the same tank top from the day prior that he must have fallen asleep in. The state of his hair indicates that he just rolled out of bed and walked out to join them. 

Leaning on his elbow, he looks down at the coffee in front of Kuroo and moans, “Oh  _ fuck,  _ I need some of that.” 

“I’ll get it,” Kuroo says immediately as he stands, moving and speaking before thinking. He pours some coffee from the pot into a mug and brings it back to a thankful Oikawa. 

The clink of the mug as Oikawa stirs in cream and sugar echo through the room, hindered only by the sizzling of the bacon in one of the pans. 

“So what’s on the agenda today?” Daichi asks this in such a tone that he may as well have added the word “kiddos” to the end. 

“I think I wanna check out the beach…” Oikawa suggests as he lazily lifts his coffee with both hands. 

“BEACH DAY!!” Bokuto shouts from out of nowhere as he bursts into the main room. 

“Bokuto, what time is it?” Kuroo asks calmly without turning around to look at him. He has his coffee up to his lips but is waiting for the reply. 

“Uh…” Bokuto fiddles with something that Kuroo can’t see before saying in a confused tone, “It’s eight-thirty AM?” 

“Right,” Kuroo says in the same calm voice. He had already known the time, and can still see it digitally displayed on the microwave. “And what do we say about the time before nine AM?” 

“The volume level should stay below a six,” Bokuto recites perfectly, his voice still at least at an eight. After a few seconds that Kuroo lets him have to think about it, he says in a much quieter voice, “Oh, sorry.” 

“Thank you, Bokuto.” Kuroo takes the sip of his coffee he’d been holding. Bokuto had seen the wrath of Kuroo in the mornings enough times to be at least a little afraid. 

Tip-toeing over to the bar that Kuroo and Oikawa are sitting at, Bokuto plucks a sliced strawberry out of the bowl Daichi had just set down. 

“Quit it, I’m going to make that into a syrup,” Daichi reprimands as he moves the bowl closer to him and puts a pre-measured scoop of sugar into it. 

Bokuto frowns a bit, realizing he had just gotten in trouble twice in the past couple of minutes. He drums out a rhythm on the counter for just a few seconds before catching Kuroo’s glare.

“Uugh, I’m gonna go get ready for the beach,” Bokuto groans after just a few moments of silence. “You guys are so boring in the mornings.” 

  
  
  


After a hearty breakfast of strawberry pancakes, bacon, and eggs, the group makes their way to the beach. Colorful beach towels and bags full of supplies accompany them to the spot they pick out on the almost white sand. The salty air from the waves mixed with the humid heat from the sky feels like a blanket of comfort on Kuroo’s skin. As he examines the horizon through his sunglasses, his scanning gaze immediately stops at the sight of Oikawa taking off his shirt. Kuroo can’t help but pull his sunglasses down to get a better look. 

Oikawa notices his gesture, and he sends him a wink as he tosses his shirt to the side. Again, Kuroo feels dirty for what he’s done. He shoves his sunglasses back on and tries to nonchalantly play it cool, looking back down at the sand next to his legs. He lifts some up into his hand and lets it trickle out between his fingers. Glancing up again, this time hidden by his sunglasses, he watches as Oikawa spreads sunscreen onto his arms and chest. All of the sand had fallen through his hand at this point, but he doesn’t notice and keeps it floating in mid-air.

Kuroo has to busy himself with the sand again as he sees Oikawa start to approach him, and for some reason he doesn’t want to be caught staring again. 

“Can you get my back?” Oikawa asks him, holding out the bottle of sunscreen. 

The hand going for another scoop of sand freezes again as Kuroo sees the display in front of him. The stupid sun is even giving Oikawa a glowing silhouette. 

“Sure,” Kuroo says, always able to feign confidence. He takes the bottle that is offered and watches as Oikawa turns around and sits in front of him. 

Were this anyone else on the trip, Kuroo wouldn’t have hesitated to pour the cold sunscreen directly onto the other person’s back. His instincts seem to be taking him in a different direction with Oikawa, so he pours it into his hand first to make sure it’s warm before applying it. After rubbing them together, he places his hands directly onto Oikawa’s back and begins to smooth in the sunscreen. 

The muscles he feels are lean and strong, and he senses as they contract in reaction to his touch. Every movement of Kuroo’s hands feels the curvature of his shoulder blades, all the way down to the small of his back. As he reaches this area and begins to apply the sunscreen, Oikawa scrambles out of his reach and turns around quickly. 

“Uh, thanks…” Oikawa says. He looks almost winded. “Want me to do yours?” 

“No thanks, I’m keeping my shirt on.” Kuroo has pulled his legs up to his chest to hide the evident arousal that Oikawa had just given him.

Looking up, Kuroo sees the other three in the group staring at them dumbfoundedly. When eye contact is made, they pretend to suddenly be very busy with other things. 

Ushijima quickly lifts his book much closer to his face and flips forward several pages, brows furrowed in concentration. 

Daichi needlessly straightens out the edges of the beach towel he is sitting on. He is the first to break the silence. “Bokuto, did you put on sunscreen?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I did it back at the house.” He pulls out a thermos from his bag and five plastic cups. 

“What’s that?” Ushijima asks over the edge of his book, finally lowering it down into his lap. He watches as Bokuto pours the milky yellow liquid into the first cup.

Bokuto looks incredibly pleased that he asked, because he smiles widely and breaks out into song, “If you like pina coladaaas, and gettin’ caught in the rain.” 

“Bokuto, it’s barely past ten AM,” Daichi chastises, watching as Kuroo and Oikawa both take the cups offered to them. 

“If you’re not into yoga,” Bokuto continues singing as he pours another cup, ignoring Daichi’s words. “If you have half a brain.” 

“Bokuto’s certainly got that goin’ for him,” Kuroo adlibs to the song as he takes a sip of the pina colada. Oikawa nearly spits out his drink laughing at the comment. 

Ushijima politely accepts the cup that is handed to him as Bokuto dramatically keeps up the number, “If you like makin’ love at midnight…”

“Like we know Daichi does with Suga,” Kuroo shouts with a melodic trill, holding a hand next to his mouth to amplify the words.

“Nice,” Bokuto says as he clinks his cup against Kuroo’s. 

“Ugh… Give me one of those,” Daichi says, desperately grasping at the air until a cup is presented to him. 

  
  


Between the sun’s luscious rays and Bokuto’s pina coladas, Kuroo can’t help but feel the tightness in his shoulders ease up. The faces around him light up bit by bit as they break into easy conversation. They talk about their current living situations, and the steps they are still taking to advance their careers; the important figures they’ve met, the friends they’ve made and the friends they’ve kept are also among the topics. 

Kuroo loves that he’s here, surrounded by key figures that marched into adulthood with him. It gives him a sense of uplifting optimism to get to share a moment like this with them; or it’s the pina coladas that are uplifting him, he’s not entirely sure. Several bouts of laughter come from the group as jokes are told and anecdotes are shared. 

Oikawa and Bokuto both decide they’ve had enough sitting around and make their way to the ocean waves, leaving Kuroo with Daichi and Ushijima. 

“I think I’m going to surprise Suga with a tan,” Daichi says decisively as he pulls off his shirt and lays back on the beach towel he had spread below him. 

“Whoa, Daichi, put those things away! You’re going to poke someone’s eye out,” Kuroo teases, holding up his hands to block the view. 

“Hmm, I’m too tipsy to care about your jabs right now.” Daichi says in a serene voice, his eyes are closed and his hands are resting behind his head. 

“Jabs? You think they’re jabs? Daichi, I think your body is beautiful.” Kuroo tries to sound as offended as he can. 

“Ugh, go away.” 

As Daichi groans, Ushijima bursts into laughter from the other side of him. Kuroo looks over to see he had just finished his second pina colada. 

“I’m glad  _ someone _ thinks I’m funny,” Kuroo says as he takes another sip of his drink, the sting of rum hitting the tip of his tongue. 

“Don’t you have something better to do?” Daichi asks, remaining in his relaxed position. 

Kuroo’s eyes drift back to the shoreline, where Bokuto and Oikawa are running around in the knee-deep shallows. A wave comes up from behind Oikawa and crashes into his back as he laughs at the impact, struggling to maintain his balance. 

“No, not really,” Kuroo says in response to Daichi’s question. 

  
  
  


Later that afternoon, Kuroo finds himself in the main living area with a jigsaw puzzle in front of him. There are 1000 pieces in the puzzle, so the tiny pieces are still spread out pretty far on the coffee table in front of him. Piecing it together bit by bit, he feels a sense of relaxation ease up his shoulders. The rest of the group had retired to naps or other types of quiet activities. It’s only about twenty minutes after that Oikawa comes out to join him, complaining that he can’t seem to get relaxed enough for a nap. 

“Want to help?” Kuroo suggests, gesturing at the puzzle in front of him.

“Sure…” Oikawa sits on the floor across from him, picking up a few of the pieces and trying them together. “What’s the picture supposed to be?” 

Kuroo lifts up the box lid, revealing the painted picture of a bouquet of different colored flowers. Oikawa takes it and looks at it for a bit longer before looking back down at the table. He begins sorting the pieces out by color, putting them in piles that look most likely to go together.

“I like your strategy,” Kuroo says, thoroughly impressed. He starts the same process to help get it done quicker. 

“These pieces are so small, I don’t think I’ve ever tried a puzzle this big.” Oikawa’s fingers filter through a pile of black background pieces, looking for edges that look similar. 

“Well, we have nine more days, I bet we can finish it before then.” Kuroo finds pieces to fit with ease, and already has a couple of large blocks pieced together. He looks up when he realizes Oikawa hasn’t answered, and sees him examining his movements. 

“Maybe with your skills we can,” he finally says with a smile. 

They continue in silence for a while, enjoying each others’ presence without the need of constant conversation. The sound of light cardboard being placed on the wood of the coffee table is all that is heard until Bokuto comes into the room. 

“I hope you brought your dancing shoes, because we’re going out tonight!” He declares as he plops onto the couch behind Kuroo. 

“Does dancing require specific shoes?” Ushijima asks as he makes his way down the hallway, a yawn escaping during the last part. 

“Uh, no, it’s a figure of speech,” Bokuto explains.

“Oh, okay, then I think I’m ready.” 

“In that?” Bokuto asks incredulously. 

Kuroo can’t see him from where he is seated, but based on Oikawa’s suppressed laughter Bokuto must have a pretty good expression on his face. 

“Yes?” Ushijima looks down at the plain black shirt and athletic shorts he is wearing. 

“Oh, Ushiwaka....” Bokuto stands from the couch and walks over to him. He puts both arms in front of him to measure the difference in shoulder width between the two. “Come with me, I think you can fit into something of mine.” 

He turns Ushijima around and the two walk back down the hall with Bokuto guiding gently, steering him by the shoulders. 

“I guess we’re getting fancy tonight?” Kuroo shrugs as he looks back to Oikawa.

“You don’t strike me as the type to own anything fancy…” Oikawa says this with a look of scrutiny. 

Holding a hand to his chest, Kuroo gasps and says, “I am both appalled and insulted. I’ve come a long way since we were 20.” 

  
  


After a quick shower and a change, Kuroo joins the rest of the group in the living room. Ushijima is looking fresh in a slate gray collared shirt that Bokuto had chosen for him. 

Oikawa is lounging on the couch in a black v-neck and chinos, legs crossed as he scrolls through his phone. He whistles when he looks up and sees Kuroo. “Consider me impressed.” 

“Thank you,” Kuroo says with a spin and a bow. He had chosen a short-sleeved collared button-up and nice jeans. 

“Alright, is everyone ready?” Daichi asks as he jingles the keys to the rental car in his hand. 

“What’s this? You think you’re driving?” Kuroo asks with a scoff. 

“Yes?” 

“No, no. We’re calling a car, and I’m buying you at least four drinks,” Kuroo says as he pulls up his phone to find a ride service. 

“Yeah, Daichi! You should definitely get to loosen up on this vacation.” Bokuto gives him a reassuring pat on the back. “Put those keys down. Sawamura Daichi is goin’ out on the town!” 

“Okay, I guess one night won’t hurt…”

  
  


The bar they’re dropped off at is hardly busy at 8 o’ clock. They pick a table and order a drink for each of them, clinking them together in a cheers. Bokuto chats enthusiastically about his volleyball career, and the new teammates he’s grown fond of. Oikawa and Ushijima have plenty of their own volleyball stories to throw in the mix too; Kuroo and Daichi don’t feel left out in the slightest, jumping in with their own questions and commentary. 

Despite taking a more clerical role in the volleyball industry, Kuroo still gets plenty of playtime under his belt. Daichi, too, plays occasionally with the neighborhood association. 

Oikawa notices a pool table across the bar and gives Kuroo a nudge, asking him if he wants to play. With a playful challenge in his smile, Kuroo accepts the invitation and the two make their way to the table. 

“You wanna break?” Kuroo asks as he finishes placing the balls in the rack. Pulling it up with finesse, the balls make a perfect triangle in the top center of the table. 

“Sure.” 

Oikawa finishes putting the chalk on his cue and steadies himself into the proper stance. The balls break with a loud  _ crack  _ sending them pinging around the table, two of the striped balls sink into different pockets. 

“Looks like I’m stripes,” he says with a menacing grin. He takes a few steps around the table to take his second shot, sending the fourteen ball into the corner pocket. 

There is no hustle in his style; Kuroo can tell that he is good and has had plenty of practice. He waits patiently as he watches Oikawa line up for his third shot in a row. Seeing him at all of these angles, Kuroo doesn’t care if he ever gets a turn. The twelve ball spins and clips the corner of the pocket, but it ricochets the wrong way and ends Oikawa’s streak. 

Examining the table for his best course of action, Kuroo makes his way to the cue ball. Taking aim at the two-ball that is just caddy corner to the center-right pocket, he sends it in gracefully, and the cue ball recoils back in the exact way he wanted it to to avoid a scratch. Doing the same calculating move as before, he sinks the green six-ball as well.

A whistle comes from Oikawa who is leaning against his pool queue. “Okay, okay, looks like you have some skills.” 

“You could say I’ve had a lot of practice,” Kuroo replies, thinking of the countless weekends he’s spent alone at bars similar to this one. He makes his third shot in a row; However, this time he doesn’t get the spin on the cue ball just right, and it follows the ball into the hole. “Ah, shit.” 

“Hehe, my turn.” Oikawa takes a gulp from his beer and places it back on the tall table behind him. He digs the white ball out of the pocket and places it onto the green felt, using the diamonds on the wood borders to decipher where he can place it. Finding a good spot, he jabs the ball with the cue stick and sends the striped ball zooming into the corner pocket. 

Their combined skill-set is making for a very fast-paced game. Already, nearly half of the rack has gone into pockets. Oikawa takes another moment to take a drink, and walks over to Kuroo. 

“This really  _ is _ a nice shirt…” he says as he raises his hand and places his palm flat against Kuroo’s abdomen. Kuroo feels a searing heat where he moves his hand to stroke at the fabric. “Is this silk…?”

The silky black shirt Kuroo is wearing has ornate patterns going across it that are only visible under the light. Oikawa traces one of the patterns he sees now with his fingertip, eyes seemingly entranced by the design. Kuroo has to clear his throat before saying, “Um, it’s still your turn.” 

“Oh, right, sorry.” 

Oikawa breezes through to victory, leaving two of Kuroo’s solid balls on the table at its end. They walk back over to their table discussing the game and their strategies. Kuroo feels a lifted feeling as he chats with him, like the bottom of his feet aren’t really touching the ground. 

“I’d say that was pretty neck and neck…” Oikawa says politely as they approach the rest of the group. 

“Nah, you crushed me, it’s okay. I’m not a sore loser.” Kuroo sits down next to Bokuto who is making a face at his comment. 

“I’ll be right back,” Oikawa says without sitting down. He walks away from the table toward the direction of the restrooms. 

Bokuto watches as Oikawa walks out of earshot before slapping Kuroo on the shoulder and mocking him, “ _ I’m not a sore loser _ . Liar.” 

“What? It’s just pool,” Kuroo defends himself, taking another drink of his beer. 

“I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you break a pool stick before,” Daichi recalls from across the table. 

“So? Are you and Oikawa gonna bang?” Bokuto asks with intense sincerity, waiting for an answer.

“What? No!” Kuroo nearly chokes on his beer trying to exclaim his answer. “I… don’t think so? He’s just a friend.” 

“So what was all of this, then?” Bokuto asks as he dramatically gestures his hands in the air before placing one of them on Kuroo’s stomach. “Oh, wow, that’s really fucking soft.” 

“Exactly. He’s not into me, I just have a soft shirt.” 

Daichi reaches across the table and feels the fabric of the sleeve between his thumb and forefinger and confirms the softness. “Wow, that’s nice. Where did you get this?” 

“What about today on the beach?” Ushijima asks suddenly, staking his claim in the argument as well as putting it back on track. His face is slightly flushed as he lifts his glass for another sip. “I think he’s into you.” 

“See? Even Ushiwaka sees it.” Bokuto is full of wild hand gestures at this point, nearly knocking over a glass on the table. He places a gentler hand on Kuroo’s shoulder and says boisterously, “I didn’t know I was in love with Keiji until after he came back from a trip over one summer. It’s like the time and distance we spent apart brought us closer together. The moment I saw him again... I just knew. Oh my god, I miss him.” 

“Love? I don’t think that’s what this is… And can you stop comparing your relationship to everyone else’s?” Kuroo is growing tired of the subject, feeling his chest sink to a deeper place. 

“No, I will not. We have a classic love story and it’s mine to share as much as I want.” 

“Damn right, Bokuto.” Daichi lifts his glass and clinks it against his. 

Kuroo mutters a few self-demeaning things under his breath that the others don’t hear. They are mainly along the lines of him not being capable of loving or being loved by anyone. He knows if he actually confesses these things aloud it would spur a small drunken therapy session amongst the group, so he keeps it quiet. As he silently mulls over these facts himself, he notices Oikawa making his way back. The dusky lights of the bar shadow his face, but it’s still incredibly awe striking to Kuroo. 

“What’d I miss?” Oikawa asks as he returns.

“Kuroo was just about to tell me where he bought his shirt,” Daichi says, still clinging to the question he never had answered. 

“I’ll take you shopping with me sometime after we get back to Japan,” Kuroo answers. “We’ll find you something nice and slutty for Suga.” 

“I wanna come too,” Bokuto says quickly. “I bet Daichi would look great in leather.”

“Something leather and assless,” Kuroo adds to Bokuto’s banter. 

“I just wanted a store name,” Daichi says in a defeated voice. 

Bokuto suddenly stands and slams his hands on the table. 

“Okay, I’m bored. Let’s go somewhere more fun.” With his hands still planted on the table top, he looks to his left. “Kuroo?”

“Hm? Oh, sorry, I’m still stuck on the idea of Daichi in assless chaps…”

Daichi throws one of the table top menus at Kuroo, who only has his forearms to raise in defense of his face. 

“Fine, fine, I’ll get a taxi on the way…” 

The club they end up at is lively to the say the least. The dance floor is already filled with people, and the bars spread around the building are teeming with customers looking to buy a beverage. 

Even over the banging music, Kuroo can hear Bokuto singing to a different and familiar song when he orders a pina colada. Oikawa hears this too, and sends an exaggerated eye roll at Kuroo. They have to communicate in gestures and body language due to the overwhelming sound of the speakers. After a few pantomimes back and forth of them making fun of Bokuto, Oikawa points to the dance floor with an invitation written across his face. 

Kuroo finishes his drink in one fell motion, and puts it back on the bar counter for someone to collect. They dance alone for a while, just moving their bodies in the same space. Kuroo notices Oikawa getting closer bit by bit, until they’re just a few inches apart. Bokuto bursts onto the scene with his own dance moves, causing a few people to clear a bit of space for him. 

The whole captain’s squad is out on the dance floor with them now, dancing to the beat in their own special ways. Even Ushijima has some moves up his sleeve, although Kuroo gets the vague sense that they look like something out of an ‘80s workout video. Despite this, he seems to be the most choreographed of the group. The rest of them start to mimic his motions after a while, and break down into laughter as they finally get one of the motions right between all five of them. 

After a few hours of drinking and dancing, Kuroo is the one who has to round everyone up. Daichi complains rampantly that he wants to stay a little while longer, but Kuroo knows it’s a decision he would regret in the morning. Like herding cats, he finally gets the drunken mid-twenty-somethings into the minivan taxi that comes for them. 

Daichi, Ushijima, and Bokuto all cram into the backseat despite there being three other available spots to choose from. Oikawa is the most sober of the other four, sitting in the middle seat with two feet of space between him and Kuroo. He is currently swiping through his phone, looking at the photos he had taken on their first day. 

“I just love you guys so much.” Ushijima is the one to break the silence, with tears in his voice. 

“Aw, Ushiwaka,” both Daichi and Bokuto say in unison as they hug the man in between them. 

Bokuto does not hesitate to follow up with, “We love you too.” 

Kuroo and Oikawa both pivot around to watch the scene that is unfolding. 

“I’m really glad you guys invited me along…” He is still sniffling as he says this, and then continues on a ramble, “I’ve never been great at talking, or making friends on my own accord. I always thought that, that… stuff like that didn’t matter. But lately I’ve been feeling like that was the wrong choice, but I didn’t know how to fix it… and then Daichi organized this…” 

“There, there, let it out Ushi… Jim… can I call you Jim?” Bokuto pats Ushijima’s shoulder to try and console him. 

“Please don’t,” Ushijima says in a strained voice as he wipes away some tears that had escaped. 

A small snore comes from Ushijima’s right arm, and Kuroo realizes that Daichi has passed out there. He takes his phone out and captures a photo of the drooling Daichi. Another one for the album. 

As they spill out of the car and into the driveway of their rented house, Ushijima bares the majority of Daichi’s dead weight. Bokuto helps drag him inside while Kuroo gives a generous tip to the mortified, yet amused, taxi driver. 

“I can’t believe they got  _ that _ wasted,” Kuroo sighs as he enters the house.

“I think you literally asked for it by getting a taxi there,” Oikawa chuckles in response. He is looking over the puzzle they still have splayed out on the coffee table. 

“Did you want to continue?” Kuroo asks softly, trying not to disturb the rest of the house that has suddenly fallen incredibly silent. 

“Nah,” Oikawa answers with a yawn catching him in the middle. “I think I’m gonna call it.” 

“Yeah, same here,” Kuroo says. He isn’t tired in the slightest. In fact, every nerve ending of his body feels wide awake. He falls back into his usual sarcastic demeanor, and smoothly jokes, playing it off with a laugh at the end, “I could come with you, y’know…” 

Oikawa is already at his door, just a little ways down the hall. He looks back at Kuroo as he hears this with that same look of scrutiny he’d expressed before. Giving Kuroo only a half-smile, he simply tells him goodnight and closes the door behind him. 

A vague feeling of emptiness washes over Kuroo as he watches that door close tightly, hiding Oikawa away from his sight. 

He stands there for a few moments, reveling in the sinking feeling in his chest before finally turning all of the lights off and heading toward his own bed. 

  
  
  


Kuroo is roughly awakened by two firm hands. He opens his eyes to a wide-eyed crazy-eyebrowed son-of-a-bitch. “What the fuck, Bokuto?” 

He tosses his body over to face away from the disturbance, grumpily mumbling curse words at him. 

“You’re not gonna believe what Ushiwaka confided in me last night,” Bokuto says in a whisper, which is abnormal for him. 

Intrigued by this, Kuroo wiggles his body so that he is facing Bokuto again but still lying down. “What?” 

“He said, and I quote, ‘I think I could be into guys too…’” With both hands up to frame the quotation, Bokuto looks at Kuroo in silence after he says this, waiting for a response. When he doesn’t get one, he widens his shrug and nods his head toward Kuroo. 

“And?” Kuroo doesn’t really care about Ushijima’s sexual orientation. He was looking for something more exciting along the lines of a murder confession. He is about to roll back over when Bokuto speaks again. 

“I mean? Don’t you think it’s weird? That all five of us are queer?” 

“Why is that weird?” Kuroo uses his arms to sit up on his bed now, the blanket falling off of his bare chest. 

“Okay, so maybe I shoulda used the word ‘uncanny.’ Whatever. So speaking of queer boys… Oikawa?” Bokuto raises a very pointed brow, looking for a response from Kuroo. 

“I don’t think he likes me…” A vivid image of a closing door plays on a loop in Kuroo’s brainvision. 

“What? You’re really stupid if you haven’t noticed any of his signals.” 

“ _ I’m _ stupid? You snorted a sour skittle up your nose in your first year of  _ University _ .” 

“It was a  _ dare _ and I made 2,000 Yen.” Bokuto defends himself with no shame. As if this makes it better, he adds, “And I didn’t even  _ finish  _ University.” 

Kuroo rubs his eyes, officially too awake to fall back asleep. “Why do you care so much about it, anyway?”

“Because you’re my friend, and I’d like to see you happy for once. Anyway, I’m going for a run, do you want to join me?” Bokuto is already in jogging gear, and doing a few stretches as he extends his invitation. 

“Fuck no,” Kuroo replies, feeling the throb of a headache coming on. He doesn’t try to defend himself with a lie by saying that he  _ is _ happy. He doesn’t have the energy for sarcastic comebacks with his looming hangover.

He climbs out of his bed wearing nothing but his plaid PJ pants and makes his way to the kitchen, searching desperately for water. Oikawa is in the living room, stationed in front of the coffee table. He is sipping on coffee and fiddling with some of the puzzle pieces when he sees Kuroo enter, and drops the puzzle piece he is holding instantly. 

“Uh, sorry, I did a little bit myself this morning,” Oikawa says quickly, picking up the piece again and staring at it intently. 

“Oh, that’s fine, I don’t care.” Kuroo downs a glass of water in less than ten seconds, feeling the hydration spread like ice prickling through his veins. 

Bokuto zips into the front room and grabs a glass of water himself, jogging in place as he pours it and drinks from it. Without a word, he exits the house; but not before turning around and giving Kuroo two thumbs up and a wink. Kuroo knows there’s no way Oikawa could have seen his gestures from where he was sitting, but he shoots a glare at the back of Bokuto’s retreating head all the same. 

“Didn’t he take like twelve shots of tequila last night?” Oikawa asks with a raised brow. He is sitting on the floor with his coffee hand propped up by his knee, his other arm perched on the couch cushion behind him. 

“I think he’s immune to hangovers…” The words coming out of Kuroo’s mouth feel strange, like they don’t want to be there. He wants to talk to Oikawa, but he’s still seeing a repeat of the door closing in front of him last night. 

He walks over to the coffee table and sits with one leg pulled up to his chest, resting his chin on his knee. The fog of his headache is still shadowing his facial features. 

“Are you okay?” Oikawa asks from across the table. He has positioned himself into a more serious puzzle-solving form. His eyes are full of curious concern when Kuroo meets them. 

“I’m fine, just, uh…” He pats his forehead gently a few times, trying to gesture that he has a headache without having to use any more words. 

“Ah,  _ you’re _ not immune to hangovers,” Oikawa infers from his motions. He stands up and leaves Kuroo’s line of sight for a while, Kuroo not moving from his stiff position. 

When he comes back, he is holding two small pills and a glass of water. “Take these.” 

Kuroo does as he is told, and Oikawa disappears again. Picking up puzzle pieces and placing them together, slowly the medicine takes hold of Kuroo. As it does so, he notices a pleasant smell coming from the kitchen. Finally mustering the strength to stand again, Kuroo walks just a few meters to the kitchen area. 

“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” The playful words slip out of Kuroo’s mouth without a second thought. The second thought still comes after he says this, and he wishes he were never born. 

“ _ Pfft _ , I bet you said that to Daichi and Ushiwaka yesterday too,” Oikawa says with a short laugh. 

“You’re right, I did,” Kuroo lies coolly, thankful for the escape route he had been offered.

Oikawa is silent for a few seconds before finally answering his initial question, “Omelette rice. The rice should help soak up the rest of the alcohol in your… Well, in everyone’s systems. I’m sure the two that are still sleeping are going to be…”

As he says this, a groaning noise comes from down the hallway. Sawamura Daichi has risen from the dead, and his very life-like corpse is shambling toward the main room. He sits on one of the barstools and buries his head into his arms on the breakfast bar counter. Another groan comes from the bed headed lump sitting in front of Kuroo. 

He quickly fetches a glass of water and pokes at Daichi’s arms, whose head raises up very slowly. Graciously accepting the water, he drinks it even faster than Kuroo had earlier, and raises the empty glass asking for more. He downs his second glass and gasps for air at the end of it, still looking like he has succumbed to death. 

“Why’d you drink so much last night, Daichi?” Kuroo asks with a mischievous smile. 

Daichi’s dark eyes glare at him from the side as he says, “ _ Because you kept buying drinks for me, Kuroo. _ ”

“You didn’t have to accept them,” Kuroo says with a shrug. “I can’t be held liable for your own decisions.” 

“Shhh,” Daichi says as he cradles his head back in between his arms. 

  
  


They stay in for the rest of the day, mainly keeping themselves busy. Oikawa and Kuroo spend a lot of time on their puzzle, watching as the progress is made. They are about 45% of the way finished with the complete picture by the time everyone gathers around them in the living room, discussing their plans for the evening. 

Settling on a game night, the group brings out all of the cards and board games they brought with them. When Kuroo breaks out Cards Against Humanity, the whole group agrees on it as their first choice. 

Bokuto busies himself in the kitchen while the rest of the group gathers around the dining table and Kuroo starts to deal out the cards. The sound of ice and liquid being shaken in a metal canister come from the kitchen. 

“What are you making, Bokuto?” Kuroo regrets asking this as soon as the words leave his lips. 

“If you like pina coladas,” Bokuto sings out in a sultry voice while clapping the mixer to his hand to make a beat. 

“God dammit.” Kuroo laughs out loud, falling back onto his chair. 

The rest of the table is laughing too, while looking through the cards they had been handed. Bokuto finally joins them with a pitcher of the drinks he had mixed. 

The game is full of laughter and witty remarks, getting funnier with every drink that is consumed. They move on to other card games and shenanigans as the night grows older. At one point in the evening Kuroo gets an overwhelming sense that he is living in a memory he will keep for a very long time. The cards in his hand feel surreal, as if he’s touching the memory he is revisiting. 

Every time he looks at Oikawa, he gets that same sinking feeling as before. It’s making his jokes and banter hard to keep going, and he finds himself growing quieter as they wind down their games. Daichi is the first to concede and go to bed. Leaving four people still going, they decide to do one more before calling it a night. 

The game that Bokuto chooses seems innocent at first, using only a deck of playing cards. As he explains the rules and starts the game, he tells everyone they must get a new drink in order to start. 

A few rounds in, Kuroo has nearly finished the drink he had just gotten himself. It is basically a guessing game as to what color the next card will be, red or black. There is also a third option called purple or something, Kuroo is having a very difficult time keeping up with the three rules he was given. 

It gets to the point where Kuroo is just shouting random colors to get on Bokuto’s nerves, and it’s working. 

“Green,” he says offhand, looking at the deck of facedown cards in Bokuto’s hand. 

“Shut up, I’m skipping you next time. I’m counting that as a loss…” He counts the amount of cards that had been turned since the last incorrect guess. “Take four drinks for that. Was it worth it?”

“Yes,” Kuroo says as he takes the allotted drinks, finishing his glass with the last gulp. 

He looks to Oikawa, because it is his turn, and the sight of him giggling and red faced causes a squeezing sensation in Kuroo’s chest. 

“Yellow,” Oikawa offers his guess, flicking his eyes to look at Kuroo as he does so. The squeezing feeling sinks to the pit of his stomach. 

“Fuck it,” Bokuto says, putting the cards down on the table in defeat. “I’m going to bed. JimJim?” 

“What?” Ushijima answers to his apparent new nickname. 

“You go to bed too.” 

“Why?” He sounds like a confused child. 

“ _ Because _ you are  _ very tired _ ,” Bokuto says this with facial gestures to emphasize the words, quickly darting his eyes between Kuroo and Oikawa. 

“I am?... I  _ am. _ ” The inflection of Ushijima’s voice switches from confusion to understanding. 

The obvious display makes Kuroo want to crawl into a ball and die. If Oikawa did see it, he either didn’t put two and two together or he was too polite to mention it. 

Left alone at the table, Kuroo feels the awkwardness falling heavier with every silent second. 

Oikawa is the first to break the silence, “Bokuto takes games really seriously. It’s so easy to rile him up.” 

“Haha I know, this one time we were playing Twister and you should have heard how much he screamed. He’s so competitive at everything.” Kuroo feels the words easily slip from his tongue, smiling upwardly as he speaks. 

“I can relate to that. I mean, when the stakes are as high as being the number 1 Twister Champion in Japan…” Oikawa laughs. Looking up at Kuroo, his laughter starts to fade. “You have a really cute smile.” 

The smile on Kuroo’s face twitches in slight shock, before spreading into the largest grin he has sported in a long time. His cheeks have to be a terrible shade of red as he replies, “Thanks.” 

“Oh man, I am schwasted,” Oikawa says, placing a hand on his face in embarrassment. His body sways a little before he collapses forward into the crook of his elbow, giggling uncontrollably. 

“Do you need help getting to bed?” Kuroo can tell Oikawa probably won’t remember this conversation in the morning. 

“Nah, I can make it…” Oikawa says as he stands and immediately falls back onto his chair. “Okay, maybe not. Th’fuck was in those  _ pina coladaas _ ?” 

Kuroo laughs at the way Oikawa sings the last part of his question. He gets up, with a little difficulty himself, and is able to gain enough balance for the two of them. 

Oikawa’s lack of limb control makes the journey a lot longer than it should be, and Kuroo almost drops him several times. His own feet are trying to betray him as well, stepping just a little further than his brain is telling them to each time. They look like a multi-limbed duck trying to make it down the hallway. 

Kuroo opens the door to Oikawa’s bedroom, feeling a bit strange as he walks through it for the first time. 

When they finally make it to the bed, Kuroo does the only thing his brain can think to do. 

“Uh, okay. Here you go,” he awkwardly states as he drops the man flat on his back and begins to retreat backwards. 

Oikawa’s hand, suddenly a lot quicker than before, flashes forward and grabs Kuroo’s wrist. Several alarms go off inside of Kuroo as he looks down at Oikawa, who is mumbling, “... Don’t leave… dunwunna be alone…” 

“Uh, okay,” Kuroo gulps. He assesses the situation at hand, and decides on a course of action. 

Pulling the blankets down on Oikawa’s bed, he says, “fine, fine. Get under the covers.” 

“Hee, yay!” More babbles come from Oikawa as he flops over to the side of the bed Kuroo had just turned down. 

Pulling down the rest of the sheets, Kuroo slides into the cool pocket that quickly warms up with their body heat. They are both still wearing jeans, but Kuroo doesn’t dare to mess with either of their clothing. He is currently lying very stiff with both arms hugging his own chest, trying very hard not to touch Oikawa anywhere. 

“No joke?” Oikawa asks, half asleep. 

“What do you mean?” Kuroo is so close to him he can hear his breaths. 

“You got me into bed…” Oikawa laughs. “It’suhfunny… Joke…” 

Kuroo listens to the words, all bunched together as Oikawa mumbles. He feels a ginger hand touch one of the forearms he is clenching to his chest. The hand clutches and pulls toward the source, breaking Kuroo’s arms apart. In a low voice, Kuroo asks, “What are you doing?” 

Oikawa doesn’t answer, but instead wiggles into the space he had created next to Kuroo. He places the arm he had grabbed around him, and snuggles into Kuroo’s chest. 

They lay there in silence for a bit, any words that Kuroo thinks up immediately get caught in his throat. He feels the warmth of Oikawa’s skin through his shirt; the way his chest falls up and down with every breath. Kuroo is no stranger to platonically cuddling with his friends, but the fluttery feeling in his stomach leads him to the realization that he doesn’t want this to be platonic. 

More giggles come from Oikawa as he moves, seemingly up to something. At this point Kuroo just wants him to fall asleep and stop… moving against him like that. Oikawa is too incoherent to be making any of the decisions Kuroo has let him do so far. 

Oikawa’s legs are moving around, causing the blankets to get twisted between them. Kuroo can feel as the sheets get tugged in the other direction. 

He is so focused on the motions happening down there, he doesn’t notice Oikawa’s head shifting from his chest to the pillow right next to his face. Glancing over, Kuroo can see the dark silhouette of a close object. As his eyes adjust to the proximity and darkness, he can start to make out the small features that make Oikawa’s face unique. His sharp cheekbones seem to capture every grain of light the dark room has to offer, sparing only a few for the bridge of his slender nose. 

Once he finally starts to focus on his eyes, he sees they’re staring back at him. Kuroo continues to remain still, the arm taken captive around Oikawa had been motionless the entire time. Now, he feels his fingers clutch into the fabric clinging to Oikawa’s back. 

“You should try flirting with me for real sometime… and see what happens.” Oikawa hovers dangerously close with a crescendo of giggles that grows as he gets closer. He pecks him once on the lips in a lightning motion before flipping away and continuing to giggle furiously. 

Kuroo remains frozen there as Oikawa scoots backwards to close the distance between them, pulling Kuroo’s arm back over him. In a fevered motion, Kuroo flips Oikawa back onto his back and finds himself between his legs. Not entirely sure what he is thinking, or if any thought could control his movements, he leans down and finds Oikawa’s lips with ease. Selfishly, he kisses the inebriated man with all of his being. 

A shocked but pleased moan growls in Oikawa’s throat as he kisses back, pulling on Kuroo’s shoulders and bucking his hips upward. The satisfaction of feeling Oikawa’s body react to his nearly outweighs the guilty feeling his conscience is slinging at him. 

He digs into his willpower, draining all of it as he falls to his side after pulling away from Oikawa. Hungry hands come at him instantly, and he has to push them away as he whispers, “when you’ll actually remember it…” 

Oikawa drunkenly protests before finally giving in and settling down in the nook that Kuroo’s hips had left for him. He wraps both arms around Oikawa tightly, realizing immediately how perfectly he tucks in. 

“How are you  _ this _ adorable?” Kuroo lets himself ask, hoping it won’t be remembered in the morning. “It’s not fair.”

He lets himself take in the smell of Oikawa’s hair, and the feeling of his body shape. He doesn’t think he will ever fall asleep, yet alone want to. At some point he does though, and he feels incredible comfort from the body lying next to him. 

  
  


A slight breeze flutters against the curtains, signifying that Oikawa must have left his window open at some point. Kuroo squints at the golden white light that seeps through and dances on his eyelids with every move of the curtain. His eyebrows scrunch together in a disgruntled way, trying to clench his eyes to keep out the light. 

Finally opening them, the first place his eyes dart to is the puff of brown hair sticking up over the comforter. He can’t see Oikawa’s face to see if he’s still sleeping, but decides it’s best if he leaves before he wakes up. 

He considers his options for escape, hindered greatly due to the fact that one of Oikawa’s legs had managed to drape over his. Shifting ever so slightly, he immediately feels Oikawa start to stir. A low and gravelly groan emits from the lump beneath the comforter. 

Kuroo stops moving immediately, hoping he might fall back asleep if he remains still. He can feel the muscles tightening in his leg with the way he has it positioned, a little twisted to the left. The nerves start to numb, small shocks of electricity climbing up his leg. 

He finally has to give in, pulling his leg out from under Oikawa’s. He feels the blood slowly start to prickle back into circulation. The boy next to him sits up just as slowly. He looks over at Kuroo as the comforter falls forward off of his face; the expression is shocked, and almost… disappointed? 

“What did I do?” Oikawa asks with a sullen voice. His hair is completely flat in the spot he fell asleep on. 

“You… asked me to stay, so I did. Then we fell asleep.” Kuroo leaves out several details in his recant. 

“That’s it?” Slanted brown eyes with bags beneath them scrutinize Kuroo’s face as Oikawa waits for an answer. 

“That  _ is _ it,” Kuroo responds. Even he can tell the words he used were emphasized in a strange way. He immediately backtracks. “Okay, so we cuddled a bit. But I  _ did not take advantage of you. _ ” 

Kuroo realizes the more he talks, the less credible his words seem. But he also knows if he did do the things he wanted to do, Oikawa would definitely still be feeling them now. His worrying starts to ebb as Oikawa starts to laugh. 

“What?” Kuroo asks out of curiosity, and to gauge whether or not his pride should feel hurt. 

“Nothing, it’s just… Nothing. Oh my god my head… it feels like… a watermelon that’s been left in the sun.” Oikawa’s voice is almost raspy. He clears his throat a couple times and then falls back onto the pillow. “Ow.” 

Kuroo decides not to push any further, despite the nagging feeling at the pit of his stomach. With the way Oikawa has been reacting, he assumes that his face is the last one he wanted to be waking up to. 

His instincts are fighting with the situation, and he lets them go one by one. Starting with the urge to roll over and hold Oikawa once more; he has definitely let that go. Followed by the idea of kissing him on the cheek with a proper good morning; that idea is absolutely out the window. As he overthinks all of the things he is supposed to be letting go, he realizes that these instincts have turned into desires. 

It gives him a dull sense of pain he’s never felt before… and it feels kind of good. 

  
  
  


In the day that follows, Kuroo notices Oikawa’s almost constant presence. Wherever the group went, whether it was during their time on the beach or visiting markets and food vendors, Oikawa was right there next to him. He realizes shortly that he had been subconsciously leaving a space for him as well. He starts to entertain the notion that he had been leaving that space there for a lot longer than just today, and even long before the vacation had even started. He decides to keep this idea, like the fleeting kiss he’d received from Oikawa, for himself. 

He can feel the shallow cuts of torment every time he looks at Oikawa’s hand and wants to hold it. The sinking feeling wraps him up in a love-sick high, numbing the tips of his nerves every time their eyes connect. 

Despite being badgered by Bokuto several times on the whereabouts of his sleeping location the previous night, Kuroo refuses to disclose any information. His obsession with Oikawa is growing within him, and he feels like if he talks about it the flame will disappear somehow. He just wants a few hours to fantasize and forget the reality that Oikawa doesn’t actually like him back. 

As evening approaches, Ushijima and Bokuto leave to get firewood. Oikawa and Kuroo are hard at work on their puzzle when they return, and the picture is coming together nicely. Multiple flowers can be seen in different pieced together sections. Their progress has been hindered by their conversations, filling the living room with a few bouts of laughter and constant chatter. 

“I can’t believe you called Man of Steel an alien movie…” Oikawa scoffs, his attention entirely focused on Kuroo. 

“It  _ is _ ,” Kuroo responds with utmost sincerity. “So is Transformers.” 

“Ugh, I  _ guess _ .” Oikawa is enveloped in the conversation. He starts a list, tapping each finger as he bullets them, “The X-Files, Men in Black, Evolution, The Alien Franchise, Lilo & Stitch, E.T., War of the Worlds… Aliens are supposed to be cool looking.” 

“Thor is an alien,” Kuroo counters again, knowing full well that he is right. 

“I can’t…” Oikawa waves his hands in an attempt to get the conversation topic changed. 

Daichi joins the group after a lengthy video chat with Sugawara. Kuroo would normally make a remark at this point, but he keeps it to himself this time. They leave the puzzle abandoned and head to the back patio where Ushijima is currently building a fire in the outdoor fireplace. Multiple pieces of patio furniture have been arranged in a semi-circle around the fire. 

Kuroo has chosen the only available bench, followed by Oikawa joining him. As dusk begins to approach, the glow of the fire begins to cast a brighter shade of range on the group of smiling faces. 

A bucket of ice with both beer and water bottles is sitting on the broad table in front of them. Bokuto has his feet propped on the table and is leaning back in his chair, looking up at the stars. A peaceful silence falls over the former captains as they sip on their beverages and contemplate different things. 

Daichi stands from his chair and says, “I’m gonna go grab snacks, anyone want anything?”

Every hand shoots up in reply, causing Daichi to laugh. 

“I’ll come help,” Kuroo offers, quickly standing from the bench. He immediately can feel the empty space beside him as he walks away from Oikawa. 

Once inside the kitchen, Daichi starts to rummage through the cabinets for the supplies they had just done a run for. Kuroo leans against the counter with his arms across his chest, questions clouding behind his eyes. 

“So, I’ve been thinking,” Kuroo says, tightening his arms as he speaks. 

“Well, that’s dangerous,” Daichi responds with a laugh, filling a bowl with some chips. 

Kuroo doesn’t have the energy to pity laugh at his dad joke at the moment. He pivots on his right foot to face the counter, leaning his crossed arms against the counter’s surface as he does so. His face is giving off different shades of gloom as he picks up a chip out of the bowl. 

“Look, Kuroo, I’ve told you a hundred times, I’m taken,” Daichi continues in the same jovial tone. 

“I’m not talking about you…” Another chip is seized from the bowl.

“I know you’re talking about Oikawa. What’s going on with you? You’re usually a lot more confident than this.” Daichi pulls down some graham crackers as he looks at Kuroo with a raised brow. 

“I’m just not really sure that there’s a point…” Kuroo props his head on his shoulder, still digging in the bowl of chips. “Is there any dip for these?”

Daichi pulls the bowl away from his reach. “There won’t be any left to bring out if you don’t stop… So you’re coming to me for advice? Don’t you usually go to Bokuto for everything?”

“He gives shit advice when it comes to this stuff.” Kuroo knows that if he were to bring this up with Bo, he would just start to go on and on about the  _ power of love. _

“Okay, let’s see then…” Daichi takes a moment to think over the words he wants to say. “When it comes to love…”

Kuroo groans at the beginning of the sentence, burying his face in his hands. 

“Okay, give me a break,” Daichi says in defense. “I’m really not sure what type of advice you’re after here. You don’t see the point in what? Taking things further with Oikawa? Didn’t you already sleep with him last night?”

“What?! No, I didn’t.” Kuroo looks over at Daichi in shock. 

“Well, that’s what Bokuto is telling everyone. You might want to sort that out with him.” 

“I already  _ did _ . Nothing happened between me and Oikawa and I don’t even think he wants it to. And even if it did, what’s the point? We all go back home and have  _ thousands _ of kilometers between us?” Kuroo’s rambling goes on for longer than he anticipated, and he stares at the flecks ingrained on the countertop as he finishes. 

“Well, that is a problem, isn’t it?” Daichi taps his fingers on the counter a few times before saying, “Some things are worth waiting for.” 

“What if  _ I’m _ not worth waiting for?” Kuroo feels his voice thin out as he asks this, mostly rhetorical, question. 

“That sounds like something for you to work on,” Daichi says without hesitation. “There are two foundations in every relationship. If one of them isn’t sturdy, the other will crumble as well.” 

Kuroo takes a moment to assess Daichi’s words, and the realism that lies behind them. He wonders momentarily whether his words are spoken from general wisdom or actual experience, but doesn’t bother prying into it. 

Daichi continues without any pushing, “Suga and I have our fair share of fights, but they always resolve themselves quickly. It’s because we both bring a good amount of self-awareness into every argument we engage in. We’re constantly working on ourselves not just for the sake of our relationship, but for the sake of our own sanity.” 

“See? That’s a lot smarter than any relationship advice I’ve received from Bokuto…”

“And how many times has Bokuto landed on your couch after a big blow-up fight between him and Akaashi?” Daichi remarks, alluding to stories Kuroo had told him in the past. “But they have something special of their own, too.” 

“They both have their… issues,” Kuroo admits, eyeing the bowl of chips Daichi had scooted away from him. 

“Everyone does. Sometimes Suga can get so cold. Like, ice cold, stop you in your tracks with his words cold.” Daichi’s expression spaces out for a moment as he recalls some old memory.

“So relationships are just meant to be painful?” Kuroo asks, not sure what else he was supposed to have gathered from this interaction. 

“The highs are worth it… they make the lows seem like nothing in comparison.” Daichi has finished gathering all of the supplies, and is now leaning against the counter facing Kuroo with all of his attention. “If it makes you feel any better, you’re a great dude. Whatever you’re going through that is making you not believe that… Well, I hope you get over it soon.” 

A supportive hand lands on Kuroo’s shoulder, and he feels a sudden wave of emotion that makes him want to cry. He shoves the feeling away with a firm fist bump on Daichi’s shoulder to show his appreciation. “Thanks, Daicchan.” 

“This was a lovely moment, and you ruined it,” Daichi replies with a deadpan voice. He grabs the tray of snacks he had put together and walks out of the kitchen. 

“Aw, come on, I really thought the moment called for it,” Kuroo says as he follows close behind. 

As they return to the back patio, the group cheers in gratitude. 

“Kuroo didn’t help at all,” Daichi says as he places the tray down. 

“That’s not true. I poison tested the chips. You’re welcome.” Kuroo takes his precious spot back, casually letting his leg bump into Oikawa’s and leaving it there. 

The warmth of his leg is ripped away when Oikawa notices the ingredients for s’mores on the tray. “Oh my god, I want seven.” 

The rest of the group follows suit in grabbing marshmallows and sticking them onto skewers. They have to take turns around the small opening of the outdoor fireplace. Kuroo feels the heat of the flames roll over his arms as he tries his best to toast the marshmallow without burning it. 

Bokuto sticks his marshmallow all the way in the fire and pulls out a ball of flame. He blows on it roughly to put out the fire, causing the oozing fluff to almost fall off of the skewer. The marshmallow is charred black and the burnt smell is wafting through the air. 

He uses his fingers to remove the sticky substance from the skewer and places it in his mouth with a pleased smile. 

“You’re a fucking animal,” Kuroo says with a disgusted look on his face. 

“What?” Bokuto asks with a full mouth. His cheeks are puffed out with its contents. 

“You got something on your face, Bokuto,” Oikawa says as he gestures at his own mouth. Kuroo is curious why he would say that, considering Bokuto had somehow managed to keep his face clean during the whole show. 

“Where?” Bokuto asks as he wipes at his mouth with his fingers, causing the marshmallow stuck there to transfer to his face. 

“Don’t worry, you got it,” Oikawa says with a thumbs up. 

“Bokuto, use this,” Daichi says with a sigh, handing him a wet napkin. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


The next morning, Kuroo awakes in his assigned bed, with a feeling of optimism he hadn’t felt in a while. He gets ready for the day with a positive energy, swiftly moving through his routine before making an appearance in the living room. Oikawa is sitting at the breakfast bar, already ready for the day as well. He is wearing shorts and a sleeveless shirt that has a hood attached to the back. 

His face brightens when he sees Kuroo enter, and he turns to greet him. “Hey, good morning.”

“Hi, good morning, yourself,” Kuroo responds in a confident voice. He is feeling his energy today. 

“Do you want to go for a walk or something? I saw Bokuto and Ushijima leave for a run earlier and it inspired me to do  _ some _ kind of physical fitness while on vacation… I can’t believe I’ve been so lazy, honestly.” 

“Sure, I could definitely go for a walk on the beach.” 

The two of them leave without saying anything to Daichi who has shown no signs of stirring from his slumber. The horizon is a dark shade of blue, save a few puffy clouds lingering over them. A few shadows pass over the sand they walk on. 

They have removed their shoes and are carrying them as they drift closer to where the tide is slowly coming in. The water splashes over their feet before retreating away in the ever changing motions of the waves. 

“Do you ever feel like no matter how hard you try, it doesn’t matter? Like, all the work you’ve put toward something is futile?” Oikawa asks after several moments of silence. His voice is paled by the sounds of the ocean coming in. 

“Oh yeah,” Kuroo answers quickly and honestly. He’s not sure exactly what Oikawa is referring to, but he does understand the feeling. 

“I’ve been trying really hard...” Oikawa says, trailing off for a bit as he looks out at the endlessness of the ocean’s horizon. 

“Is this… about volleyball?” Kuroo asks after Oikawa remains silent. 

“Haha, no,” Oikawa says with a smile, breaking his gaze away from the distance. He looks down at his feet instead. “It’s nothing, really.” 

As they’ve been talking and idly strolling, the shadows moving past them have started to grow. A few drops fall onto Kuroo’s cheek, and he looks up to see several dark clouds have gathered quickly. The drops begin to quicken in their pace, leaving darkened circles on the sand. Oikawa and Kuroo look at each other as the rain starts to fall down on them, mentally conversing before making a dash for cover. A subtle roar of thunder crawls in from a few miles away as they find shelter beneath the edge of the lifeguard building. There are only a few under informed beachgoers packing up their things in a panic and running to their vehicles, most likely because the weather was forecasted to be this way. 

As Kuroo looks over to Oikawa, whose hair is already clinging to his damp face, he starts to chuckle at a joke he comes up with in his head.

“What?” Oikawa asks, referring to the chuckle. 

Kuroo thinks for a minute, and says, “No, it’s nothing…”

“Tell me what’s so funny.” Oikawa is facing him with his shoulder leaning against the building. 

Kuroo can’t help but laugh again before he begins to sing, “If you like pina coladas, and getting caught in the rain...” 

Oikawa laughs out loud at an absurd volume, holding his stomach as he does so. As he finally calms down his laughter, he breathes a few times before looking up into Kuroo’s eyes. In a gentle movement, he leans in and presses his lips to Kuroo’s. The both of them react to the kiss with intensity, moving their jaws in time with the other’s. Kuroo wraps both arms around Oikawa, one hand behind his head. 

As they pull away from each other, Kuroo’s smile fades instantly when he sees the expression on Oikawa’s face. Kuroo can’t tell if it’s rain or tears streaking down his cheeks, but the pained expression is enough to knock the wind out of him.

Oikawa doesn’t pull away, but he says in a shaky voice, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” 

“Oh, that’s okay…” The quality of Kuroo’s voice is hindered by the lump he feels in his throat. 

He takes the first step back, unlacing his fingers from Oikawa’s hair as he does. He places both of his hands behind his back and leans against the building, watching as the rain streaks down in front of them. 

The cover provided from the lipped roof of the lifeguard shack isn’t enough to stop the downpour from soaking the bottom of their legs. Kuroo uses his bare foot to kick at the heavy rain, sloshing water in the opposite direction. 

“You should be careful with me,” Oikawa finally says, his voice is raised slightly to compete with the beat of the rain. 

“What do you mean?” Kuroo asks, turning towards him. The look he sees on Oikawa’s face as he stares into the rain is mixed with sadness and— to Kuroo’s best guess— desire.

“No matter what happens, in less than a week we’re both getting on different planes.” 

“Some things are worth waiting for,” Kuroo says instantly, repeating the words he had just recently received himself. 

Oikawa finally turns his full attention to Kuroo. A hollow pit forms in Kuroo’s stomach as he stares into the scrutinous brown eyes; as they flicker from scrutiny to softness, the pit is suddenly filled with fluttering sparks. 

“You really mean that… Don’t you?” Oikawa’s hands reach up to grab the front of Kuroo’s shirt, clenching at the fabric against his chest. 

Kuroo simply nods in response. The rain has faltered to a light trickle, crystalline sounds echo from where the drops hit the metal railing on the stairway next to the building. A deep sigh comes from Oikawa, that sounds like it’s battling between relief and disappointment. He lets go of Kuroo’s shirt and leans back on the building. 

“So, I have a confession,” Oikawa says with a slightly nervous laugh. “That wasn’t our first kiss.” 

“What?” Kuroo slits his eyes in confusion, wondering if he is talking about the recent night that he should have no recollection of. 

“Yeah… Do you remember that party before I left Japan?” 

“Not really? That was like four years ago. Maybe the first part? I got really dru-... Oh.” Kuroo’s face shifts as he connects the dots. 

“Well, do you remember this?” Oikawa asks, pulling out his keychain and showing it to him. It’s been weathered from the time spent in his pocket, but Kuroo can still make out the volleyball charm and the #1 engraved on it. 

“My keychain! I thought I lost that,” Kuroo admits, immediately recognizing the totem he had bought from a booth at nationals. 

“You gave it to me.” Oikawa smiles as he rubs his thumb over the smooth piece of metal. “You said it was for luck, and then you kissed me.” 

“That sounds really smooth, I won’t apologize,” Kuroo says coolly. 

Oikawa giggles, and says, “You’re right, it really was.” His tone shifts a shade darker as he continues, “and then I left you there. You asked me to message you when I made it to Argentina, but I never did. Once I was there, I immediately moved on in an effort to hurt you.” 

“You didn’t hurt me,” Kuroo says, feeling the tendrils of pain shoot through him as he speaks. “I don’t even remember it, how could it have hurt me?” 

Oikawa looks at him with a furrowed brow. That scrutinizing look always pops up when Kuroo lies. “But I wanted to hurt you… That’s just who I was back then. It’s who I’m still trying to get away from.” 

“I think I… get it…” Kuroo says this very slowly. A mountain of words and feelings have been piling up inside his brain. He tries to sift through them now, finding most of them to be self-deprecating. 

“Okay, but I don’t think you do though…” Oikawa is still facing Kuroo, who has spaced out while staring at the rain. “I am here now, trying to pick up those pieces. I have  _ never _ even considered doing that with anyone before.” 

“You kinda dragged out the pieces and dusted off the cobwebs first, though…” Kuroo can’t help the sardonic tone dripping from his voice. 

Oikawa takes in a sharp breath as he hears this. “You’re right, I guess I didn’t need to do that… I just wanted to put everything out in the open, you know?” 

Kuroo glances over to him, watching as he nervously fidgets with his fingertips. Oikawa had never looked so vulnerable before. His hair is curling up in different directions as it dries in the spots the rain hit it. A variety of expressions cross over his face as he opens his mouth to say something. His expression shifts once more as he closes his mouth and looks away. 

“If we’re being honest, I probably would have said anything to get you into bed. That’s just who  _ I _ was back then.” Kuroo says this with sincerity, and it chills him with an unfamiliar feeling of openness. He shifts his tone into something lighter, trying to lift the mood. “And to continue this trend of honesty… That wasn’t our second kiss either.” 

Oikawa groans and hides his face in his hands. “I knew you were lying when you said I didn’t do anything…” 

A smirk is plastered across Kuroo’s face as he gets closer to Oikawa. He tugs at the string dangling from Oikawa’s hood and says, “Don’t be embarrassed, it was super cute. It was just kind of like this.” Kuroo mimics the swift peck Oikawa had given him, placing his lips on the other’s briefly. He pins Oikawa’s back to the wall and places a hand at his waist, getting closer. “And then you started moving, like this…” Kuroo moves his hips in demonstration, and his lips are right next to Oikawa’s ear. He whispers, “Like you really,  _ really _ wanted me.” 

A heavy breath outlined with desire is exerted as Oikawa’s chest heaves in reaction to Kuroo’s words and motions. A shaky hand pushes Kuroo away, but it lingers there on his chest for a bit, playfully tracing patterns into the cotton material. 

“Someone might see us,” Oikawa explains, looking around at the very public place they’re in. 

The beach is deserted due to the storm, but Kuroo does feel a bit exposed now that Oikawa has mentioned it. A heavy wind sweeps through, pulling their hair and the hems of their clothing in the various directions it decided to go. Kuroo looks down at Oikawa’s hand, feeling the ache he has felt so clearly for the past few days resurface. 

“So?” Kuroo asks, finally gaining the courage to take Oikawa’s hand in his. “We’re still here for a few more days.” 

Kuroo is pretty sure the both of them know that what he is suggesting is the least healthy option for either of them. He caresses the back of Oikawa’s hand with his thumb, looking him in the eyes with uncharted desperation. A similar unknown expression is frozen on Oikawa’s face in reaction. 

He watches as the resolve in Oikawa’s face shatters. His hand is pulled in Oikawa’s direction as searing hot lips meet his once more. It takes a lot of internal strength for Kuroo to not undress him right then and there. He had been so caught up in his crush he had almost forgotten about the lust he also felt. 

The clouds are threatening another wave of heavy rain, so they take their chances making it back to the house in the light drizzle. Kuroo doesn’t let Oikawa’s hand go the entire walk back, afraid that if he does the reality of what just happened would cease to exist. 

Upon their arrival, Daichi is alone in the living room. He is lounged on the couch wearing a long robe with pajama pants sticking out the bottom. He puts down the book he is reading when Kuroo and Oikawa enter, looking at them over the top of his reading glasses. 

“Were you guys out in the rain?” He asks in an appalled voice. “Are you trying to catch a cold?” 

“We’re fine,” Oikawa says quickly, dragging Kuroo behind him as he power walks through the room and down the hallway. Kuroo gives Daichi an unassuming shrug as he is pulled around the corner and out of his line of vision. 

The  _ thud  _ of the door as it shuts behind him echoes through the room and halls, sending a wave of anticipation through Kuroo as he notices the intensity in Oikawa’s expression. He feels the sensation only grow as Oikawa comes closer and seizes his lips, pulling his chin down just slightly to make up for the one inch height difference. 

Kuroo loses the floor beneath his feet as the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed, causing him to fall backwards onto it. There’s hardly a split second of time wasted before Oikawa climbs onto his lap, sinking his lips into his fervently. The warmth of his lips spreads all the way through Kuroo’s body. His torso feels a sudden chill as Oikawa quickly and efficiently pulls off his shirt and tosses it to the side. 

He is pushed backwards as Oikawa’s mouth goes to work down his chest, sinking his teeth into a few different places. Kuroo hums out softly at the feeling, shifting his body back upwards to kiss the lips that get disconnected from his chest by the movement. 

He traces his fingers up the back of Oikawa’s sleeveless shirt, tenderly rubbing at the muscles in his lower back. Oikawa’s hips react to this, pressing down harder as his back arcs at the touch. Their kiss disconnects slightly at the sudden rousing, but Oikawa quickly re-engages with a single roll of his body. 

Kuroo’s hands continue up Oikawa’s back, feeling the tight warm skin against his palms. He lets the feeling soak into his hands as they continue to explore every inch of Oikawa’s back. He finally has to disconnect their kiss again to take off Oikawa’s shirt, instantly feeling the excitement as their skin presses together again. 

“Wait,” Oikawa says breathlessly as he pulls just slightly away, leaving only centimeters between their faces. “I don’t have any condoms.” 

“Is it weird that I packed some?” Kuroo asks, reflecting on his checklist of vacation essentials. 

“Seriously?”

“When you look like this,” Kuroo gestures at his own face, “you gotta always be prepared.” 

“Oh, like I wouldn’t know that?” Oikawa says as his body physically tenses. 

Kuroo lets out an amused breath as he flips the two of them, Oikawa falling flat on his back. Kuroo peppers his neck and face with kisses before hovering above him and stating, “Trust me, I know you know. Wait right here, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Oikawa doesn’t say anything, but the pleased look on his face tells Kuroo he isn’t going anywhere. 

Kuroo puts his shirt back on and opens the door as quietly as possible, surveying the empty hallway before making his move. He can hear a soft flip of a page coming from the living room, signaling that Daichi is still peacefully reading on the couch. 

Feeling slight relief at this, Kuroo hurries his soft footsteps to his room. He opens this door slowly, remembering the way it likes to creak sometimes. He backs into the room with his hand still twisting the knob to the left, watching as the door closes in silence before he lets it latch with a soft click. 

Turning around, he sees Bokuto sitting on his own bed with his legs stretched in front of him and his back leaning against the headboard. His arms are crossed to his chest and he is giving Kuroo a smug smirk. The quiet quest for condoms has been discovered. 

“What?” Kuroo asks casually, acting as if what he just did was completely normal. 

“What are you sneaking around for?” Bokuto asks in a quiet-for-Bokuto voice. 

“I’m not sneaking, I am just…” Kuroo walks over to his bed, pretending to casually stretch while eyeing the duffel bag sitting in a slump next to the bedpost. “Just coming for a nap.” 

Bokuto keeps his eyes on him the whole time, before he glances down. “Mhm, you have a boner.” 

Kuroo immediately rushes for his bag without saying a word. He grabs the strip of individually wrapped condoms and makes a run for it, inefficiently hiding them as they trail behind him. 

“Halt!” Bokuto shouts as Kuroo makes his escape. A muted ringing sound also comes from his direction. 

Kuroo opens the door and leaves it hanging open as he starts down the hall, stopping short as he almost runs into an approaching figure. Ushijima’s looming shape also stops at the near collision, and as he looks down and sees what Kuroo is holding he breaks into a blush. 

“Oh, excuse me,” he says quickly and politely, moving to the side to let him by. 

“Bokuto? Hello? It’s 11:00 PM, you better be dying from a jellyfish sting,” Akaashi’s voice comes from behind Kuroo. 

“Oh, BABE! I must have butt-dialed you. Guess WHAT…” Bokuto slams the door shut to continue his conversation. 

Kuroo takes a few seconds to realize the embarrassment of the preceding events. He walks stiffly forward, feeling like he is wading through a patch of mud to get to Oikawa’s door. 

Standing at the end of the hallway, Daichi is still in his robe watching the scene with a serene expression. He lifts his cup of coffee and takes a calm drink, presumably coming up with a ton of remarks for later. Kuroo can’t believe the look of judgement mixed with elation on his face. 

“Well that went worse than I ever could have expected,” Kuroo says as he closes the door behind him. 

Oikawa is sitting criss cross at the head of the bed with his back against his pillow, scrolling through his phone. “Why is my Setter Group Chat going hog wild about us right now?” 

He holds up his phone with his screen out, notifications popping up every split second. 

“You’re in that group chat too?” Kuroo asks, mainly as a deflection. He walks toward him and sits on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on his knee. 

“Well, I meet the criteria so I made them add me.” Oikawa’s voice seems slightly drained. “They gossip more than this group so they’re fun. Not right now though.” 

“It’s okay…”

“No it’s not, I was actually really hoping to avoid this. Okay, what the hell? Iwa just texted me about it too. Now everyone in Japan  _ and _ California knows about us. And we’ve hardly even done anything!” The blush that had been on Oikawa’s face is replaced with flushed anger. 

Kuroo places a hand on top of Oikawa’s phone and forces him to lower it, looking into his eyes when he finally grabs his attention. “Stop worrying about it, it’s not going to change anything.”

“Oh god, you really don’t know me,” Oikawa scoffs back. He takes in a breath and does as he is told though, placing his phone face down on the nightstand. It buzzes a few more times against the wood. 

“You’re right, I don’t,” Kuroo says as he shifts forward, grabbing the headboard behind Oikawa to steady himself. He hovers in front of his face, examining it for a moment. He lifts his other hand to graze his cheek with his fingertips. “Now, where were we…”

“Seriously?” Oikawa knocks the hand away from his face. “How are you still horny?” 

Kuroo tries to think of times when he  _ isn’t _ horny, because that list is much smaller than the other option. He decides to use the power of his silver tongue to flip the mood; this is not the first awkward sexual encounter he has worked around. 

“Because I’m with the sexiest man on the whole planet,” he says as he puts his arm behind Oikawa’s waist, easily shifting him back down onto the bed. He realizes the truth in his words as he continues next to Oikawa’s ear, “I’ve wanted you for so long.” 

Elated giggles come from Oikawa as he lifts his chin in reaction to the breath against his ear. Kuroo latches onto his neck, nibbling and sucking as Oikawa gives in and places a hand at the back of Kuroo’s head. He grabs at his hair to pull him back and detach him from his neck.

“Tell me more,” Oikawa says in a demanding voice. 

Kuroo looks down at him in desperation, wanting to use his mouth for things that aren’t words. It takes him a fraction of a second to come up with more. “I traveled thousands of kilometers and you're the prettiest thing I’ve seen.” 

“And?” 

Kuroo lifts Oikawa’s legs as he gets in between them, “and,” he says with a forceful thrust that causes Oikawa to gasp, “I want to ravage you.” 

He kneels there between those legs, staring down at the body beneath him. Taking a hand and trailing it from the tip of his chin, down his chest and stomach, to the hem of his shorts that he unbuttons as he says, “more than I’ve ever wanted anyone…” 

Oikawa must have heard enough. He flings forward to take off Kuroo’s shirt, inciting the inevitable events that come with declothing the person you’re with. 

Every touch adds a little more fuel to their mutually assured destruction, but neither of them can stop at this point. They work each other over well into the afternoon, giggling and shushing the other if they ever got a little too noisy. They’re trying desperately to make up for lost time from the past and the future. 

As they finally pull away from each other, they both say “ _ wow _ ” in unison as they stare at the ceiling while their chests heave quick and deep breaths. 

“You’re really good at… that…” Oikawa notes as he flips over to his side to face Kuroo, pulling the pillow beneath his cheek to clear the view. 

Kuroo laughs toward the ceiling, one hand pushing his hair back out of his eyes only for it to fall right back down again. “You’re really good at that too.” 

He looks down at Oikawa when he feels his hand touching his chest, making circles with his index finger. Oikawa’s eyes are transfixed on the fingers he is tracing into Kuroo’s skin, and his expression is impossible to read. Kuroo can’t fathom the afternoon’s events as being a mistake, even considering the departure they will have to face in six more days. He had previously thought the trip had been planned for too long, but now he wishes it were even longer. 

He grabs Oikawa’s hand from his chest and holds it there, waiting for him to look up at him and make eye contact. When he does, all of the things he wanted to say completely vanish from Kuroo’s brain. 

“It’s okay… It’s just me” is all Kuroo can come up with to say as he uses his other arm to hug Oikawa to his chest. He breathes for a few minutes, feeling the wet of tears falling onto his chest before also saying, “I’ll always be here for you to come back to.” 

  
  
  


The following days are filled with blissful ignorance, the two of them retreating to privacy every chance they receive. The moments he spends with Oikawa keep getting warmer and even more surreal. 

As he indulges himself, Kuroo’s heart begins to fill with a dangerous sense of anticipation. “Ignorance” is becoming a less viable term as their time together dwindles with every hour. Kuroo knows exactly what he is doing every time he opens Oikawa’s door, or sweeps a hand across his back in passing. He knows exactly what is happening when his lingering gaze gets stuck on Oikawa’s laughing face and he’s unable to wrench it away. He can’t ignore the thrill he gets every time he does these things; it’s akin to the feeling of riding to the highest point of a rollercoaster, and the downward rush of falling comes when Oikawa kisses him or meets his eye contact. 

He had felt some of these things before, but never anything of this magnitude. He pictures the difference between past relationships and this one using the same metaphor. The highest point of Oikawa’s rollercoaster is leagues above the rest. This causes the thrill-junkie blood in Kuroo’s veins to boil, and he knows he won’t stop riding until the whole thing comes crashing down. 

  
  
  


An obligatory beach volleyball game is decided upon one afternoon. The teams are put together by Daichi who has volunteered to referee. 

“I don’t think this is right,” Oikawa says, pointing a thumb at his teammate. Ushijima waits patiently by the net. 

“What’s wrong with it?” Daichi asks from the position he has taken from the side of the net. 

“Can’t I have Bokuto or something?” Oikawa asks with crossed arms, his expression is unreadable beneath the large sunglasses he is wearing. 

“No, the teams are staying like this.” 

“Uh, neither of us are setters,” Kuroo points out, gesturing his index finger between him and Bokuto. 

“When has that ever stopped a 2v2 game before? It’s not my fault there’s only one setter on this trip,” Daichi says in exasperation, his sunglasses seem to droop as he looks down. He tugs at the string around his neck, revealing a whistle that had been tucked into his tank top. 

“Aw, he has a little whistle,” Kuroo has to mention, holding one hand to his chest and using the other to portray the small size between his thumb and index finger. 

“It’s not that small,” Daichi says, examining the piece of shiny silver at the end of his lanyard. He gives it a good blow, sending a shrill whistle through the air. “It does the job just fine.”

“And that’s all that matters, Daichi. Love that tiny whistle pride.” Kuroo claps a few times, laughter erupting from both sides of the net. 

“Okay,” Daichi says with an amused huff, adjusting his sunglasses to settle back on his nose. “Can we just get this game over with?” 

All of them are more than ready to get the game started. Bokuto has been bouncing up and down on the tips of his toes since the moment he saw the volleyball come out. 

“Step aside,” Oikawa says, spinning the ball in his hands a few times. “I’ve got a little beach experience under my belt.” 

“Oh, are you talking about when you played with Hinata that one time?” Bokuto asks, watching as Oikawa goes for a jump serve.

Oikawa hits the ball over the net with ease, wobbling a bit as he lands back on his feet. Kuroo receives the ball, falling straight onto his ass as he sends it arching back over the net. 

“You heard about that?” Oikawa casually continues the conversation as he gets under the ball and sends it in Ushijima’s direction. 

Kuroo scrambles to get back into a standing position to block it, but is just a bit too slow to stop Ushijima’s cannon of a spike. 

“Duh, I get notifications when that guy posts anything.” Bokuto picks up the ball from the sand. 

“Aren’t  _ you  _ supposed to be  _ his _ idol?” Oikawa has his legs spread out and his arms hovering in front of him in a readied stance. 

“I think Hinata idolizes everyone,” Daichi comments from the sidelines. 

“He’s got plenty of people to  _ look up to _ ,” Kuroo says in reference to Hinata’s height. 

“He gathers inspiration from everywhere. He’s like a cute little sponge.” Bokuto vehemently defends his protege. If Hinata were anywhere around, he would probably have left the match to give him a protective hug. 

After several successful tosses to Ushijima, Oikawa seems to be getting really into the game. He lets out a roar of approval and even rushes over to Ushijima to give him a forceful high five. 

“You guys  _ suck _ !” Oikawa taunts maliciously, energized by the game’s progress. 

“Send me a ball, I wanna hit a ball!” Bokuto whines out of the side of his mouth to Kuroo. 

“I’m shit at aiming  _ without _ the wind,” Kuroo snaps back at him, working on yet another failed serve. “Beach volleyball can kiss my ass.” 

Kuroo spends the rest of the game grumbling, aside from the few shutdowns he was able to pull on Ushijima; he sticks his tongue out at Oikawa every time it happens. 

Daichi gets plenty of opportunities to use his whistle, much to Kuroo’s dismay. 

“Stop taking your job so fucking seriously, dude,” Kuroo curses, looking over at him with his arms still raised for a block. 

“Stop touching the net,” Daichi responds sweetly as he lowers his tiny whistle. 

Kuroo kicks at the sand that keeps betraying him. They continue playing for several sets, Kuroo and Bokuto both refusing to leave without a win. As they finally land their winning shot, they both fall to their knees and shout in victory. Sweat rolls down Kuroo’s face as he races to catch his breath. 

“Yeah, okay, you guys won  _ a single set _ ,” Oikawa says with a wave of his hand. He looks over at Ushijima and, as if in pain, slowly says, “Good job… You can join my team anytime.”

“You could join my team too,” Ushijima replies. 

Oikawa immediately tenses up, faking a chuckle as he says, “Okay, let’s not push it.” 

As Oikawa spins and starts to walk away from the court, Ushijima shoots a confused look between the three other faces. He raises his arms in a shrug, whispering “Was it something I said?” 

  
  
  
  


“Looks like your husband is throwing a little party tonight,” Oikawa says to Daichi from where he’s sitting next to the coffee table. It is 9 AM on the day before they have to leave. 

“With who?” Daichi asks curiously. 

“Apparently the  _ Setter Squad _ doesn’t think we should have all the fun this week. Look.” Oikawa holds up his phone to show the group chat messages. 

“ _ Ha!”  _ Daichi nearly chokes on his coffee as he looks at the screen. “Look at Kageyama’s face.”

“I wanna see,” Kuroo says holding out his hand. When the screen is faced towards him, he sees a group selfie of men wearing face masks. Kageyama’s displeased face is in fact very humorous. Standing next to him is an equally displeased Kenma. “How the hell did they get Kenma to come to something like this?” 

“Well crafted lies,” Oikawa says, referring to previous messages he had scrolled through. 

“We should send them a group picture of our own,” Daichi suggests. 

Bokuto perks up from his lounged position on the couch when he hears this, fluffing up his hair in preparation. 

“Don’t worry, I already sent the picture of Daichi drooling on Ushiwaka’s shoulder a couple days ago.” 

“Oikawa what the hell?” Daichi exclaims in mortification. 

“What? You’re a meme now.” Oikawa taps a few times on his screen and pulls up the cropped image with white bold text that reads ‘dreaming of dick’ across the bottom. 

“Delete that!”

“I didn’t make it,  _ your husband did _ .” Oikawa laughs as he pulls his phone away from Daichi’s reaching grasp. 

“How does it feel to be the butt of everyone’s joke, Daichi?” Kuroo asks. He is laughing so hard his gut aches. 

“It’s not just him,” Oikawa says with a mischievous grin, swiping a few times before holding the phone back up to Kuroo. “Look at this one that Akaashi made.” 

The photo is from their game night. Kuroo is sitting at a table with several UNO cards in his hand. The caption reads, “admit you have a crush on Oikawa or draw 25.” 

The entirety of Kuroo’s face floods with blood as he reads it. Oikawa has a satisfied look on his face when he turns his phone back around. 

“ _ Ahahaha!  _ That’s  _ hilarious _ ,” Bokuto comments from behind Oikawa’s shoulder. 

“Hold on, Bokuto, there’s another one.” Oikawa seems to be having the time of his life unveiling these homemade memes. 

Finding what he’s looking for, he slightly angles his screen to the right so Bokuto can get a good look. Bokuto’s look of amusement is unfaltering as he takes in the photo before him, breaking down into even heavier laughter. “Who made that one? I want it as my background.” 

“Atsumu-chan,” Oikawa answers. He places his phone down on a clear spot on the table for the rest to see. 

In the image, Bokuto is buried in the beach sand with just his head showing. There are two large, uneven mounds of sand on his chest. The caption reads, “u cant handle theez boku-tiddies” with no punctuation. 

Even though Kuroo is still reeling from the embarrassment of his own photo, he can’t help but to join in the laughter. 

“Don’t worry Ushiwaka, I made sure you weren’t left out.” Oikawa places his phone down once more for everyone to gather around. 

The photo used for this one is from the same night as Daichi’s was. Ushijima is ugly crying, and you can see the tips of Bokuto’s highlights in the bottom right corner where the photo was cropped. 

In quotations at the bottom, it says “‘I should’ve gone to Aobajohsai.” 

“I don’t get it,” Ushijima responds after he looks at it. “Also, when was this taken?”

Oikawa looks beyond offended as he snatches his phone back. 

“You don’t remember spilling out your heart to us?” Bokuto asks with a raised brow. Hilarious, considering he had drunk the most of all of them that evening. 

“Yeah, dude, we know you like guys now,” Kuroo says from where he is sitting next to the coffee table. 

The exclamation of “ _ What? _ ” echoes between Oikawa, Daichi, and Ushijima. 

Bokuto reaches across the table and smacks Kuroo on the head. “He told that to me in  _ confidence! _ ”

“Well, now he knows not to trust you with secrets.” Kuroo sticks his tongue out at Bokuto while rubbing the back of his head. He looks back over to Ushijima. “Why keep it a secret from  _ us  _ anyway?”

“Well, it’s… not something I’m entirely sure of yet…” A subtle blush spreads across his cheeks as he explains, unable to keep eye contact with any of the four pairs that are glued to him. 

“Look at what you did, Kuroo. How can you just out somebody like that?” Bokuto’s eyebrows are furrowed as his chest puffs up in anger. 

Kuroo knows he has crossed a line, but his defense mechanisms are locking into place as his blood pressure starts to rise with his own anger. He snaps back at him, “Oh, just like you outing me and Oikawa to the world?” 

“That’s totally different!” Bokuto throws his hands into the air as he stands from the couch and begins to pace in front of it. 

“How the fuck is it different?!” Kuroo asks, standing to meet Bokuto’s eyes. He grabs the front of his shirt to keep him still. 

Bokuto takes this gesture as a threat, and immediately pushes him away with a heavy shove. Kuroo loses his grip at the sudden force and falls backwards onto the hardwood floor. 

“Oh my god, I’m sor…” Bokuto tries to apologize, but not before Kuroo lunges back up and tackles him at the waist. 

They land on the sofa and begin wrestling aggressively, Kuroo with his fist clenching Bokuto’s shirt and Bokuto with his open palm pushing at Kuroo’s chin. 

“Knock it off, you two,” Daichi says as he pulls Kuroo away from him. 

Kuroo fights to get away so he can give Bokuto a well deserved smack, but Daichi is just a little stronger than him. “Damn, Daichi, how much do you bench? Let me go, I’ll be good.” 

Daichi slowly releases his arms, as if he’s waiting for Kuroo to make another move. Kuroo knows he can’t physically go after Bokuto, so he decides to use words instead. 

“Maybe you don’t understand because you’re a shitty friend.” Kuroo crosses his arms as he makes the verbal blow. 

“ _ Take that back _ ,” Bokuto replies in a disbelieving tone. 

“Why should I? It’s true! When’s the last time I was able to trust you with anything?!” Kuroo can feel his fury build with every word; Coincidentally, the sense of his words start to crumble at the same rate. “Outside of volleyball and Akaashi, you don’t care about  _ anything. _ Especially me.” 

“Oh really? Before this trip, when was the last time  _ you _ asked to hang out with  _ me?  _ You’re always too busy trying to get laid!  _ You’re just jealous that I’m in a stable relationship! _ ”

“You call that  _ stable _ ?! I don’t think you know the meaning of that word!” Kuroo clenches the fists he is holding against his chest. 

Daichi is standing between them now, with a forlorn look on his face. He is looking between the both of them as if trying to come up with the proper words to de-escalate the conflict. 

Kuroo doesn’t want to give him the opportunity and prepares a few more slicing words. Before he gets the chance, Bokuto has something else to shout. 

“You don’t care about any of the friends that haven’t slept with you!” Bokuto makes a broad gesture between Kuroo and Daichi, pursing his lips and raising his eyebrows as he makes his insinuation. 

Daichi shoots a scrutinizing glare at Kuroo when this is said. ‘ _ You told him?’  _ is written in his expression.

Suddenly Kuroo feels trapped in the situation, and his heart sinks down to his stomach. Glancing around the room, he watches as expressions change as the silence in the air is interpreted. 

Bokuto immediately loses his angry stance and has regret painted on his face. Ushijima’s look shifts from concerned to confused. Daichi retracts his glare and sighs at the floor, his hands on his waist as his shoulders slump with the exhale. 

Oikawa’s face goes from amused to bewildered to a blank expression in just a matter of seconds. The energy in the room has gone from chaotic fury to icy silence. 

“I really can’t fucking stand you,” Kuroo seethes, finally cutting into the quiet. 

Bokuto looks at him with a pained expression, but Kuroo ignores it as he exits the front door and lets it slam behind him. The fresh warm summer air that fills his lungs is nearly enough to calm him down, but his feet are still moving at an antsy pace. 

He rounds the corner, where there are some stone steps cascading down a small hill. Reaching the bottom, he sees that the house is out of eyesight and sits on the bottom step. 

A few minutes pass by before he hears soft footsteps with the added clack of a flip flop with each step approaching. 

“Hey.”

It’s Oikawa’s voice. A shiver of panic runs up from Kuroo’s stomach, up his chest, out of his throat. “Ugh!” He exclaims in an involuntary groan. 

The footsteps stop suddenly. “Whoa, sorry, I’ll leave you alone.”

“No, you don’t have to go,” Kuroo says quickly, somewhat muffled by the hands that he’s buried his face into. 

The footsteps approach with more confidence, when Kuroo feels the sudden presence of Oikawa sitting next to him. Oikawa nudges him gently with the weight of his body, silently waiting a few moments before asking, “You okay?” 

“Sure, if you don’t count the fact that Bokuto just made me look like a dirty slut in front of everyone,” Kuroo mumbles as he lifts his face from his hands and rests his chin on his fingertips. 

“First of all, I hate that word. I prefer the term  _ promiscuous _ , and besides… I have no room for judgement.” Oikawa leans forward to get a better look at Kuroo’s expression. He elbows Kuroo’s side a few times as he says, “Didn’t expect you to be a homewrecker though. Did Sawamura really cheat on Sugawara?” 

Kuroo is quick to explain, “No, no, they were broken up at that time. It was a one time thing, we decided.” 

“I get that too… You know, me and Iwa-chan once…” Oikawa examines the back of his hand as he talks. 

“What? No shit…” Kuroo feels a flare of jealousy in his blood, but tries to play it down. 

“We  _ thought _ it was what we wanted, but it ended up kind of awkward. We’d known each other since we were small, I just couldn’t get over the feeling I was like… you know, with my brother or something.” Oikawa’s voice makes a shift towards repulsion as his eyes gather a memory. 

“I get that, I could never with Kenma. Not that he would want to with  _ anyone _ .” 

For some reason, talking even more about these things starts to bring Kuroo some comfort. With every story he tells, Oikawa has one too. Their conversation drifts from focusing on them, and onto who is hooking up with who back home. 

“No fucking way… Sounds like things only got more fun  _ after _ I left Japan.” Oikawa sounds disbelieving at the number of love triangles and relationship dramas Kuroo has been telling him about. 

“It’s fun from the outside looking in,” Kuroo says with a hollow voice. 

“Just couldn’t stay there, could you?” Oikawa laughs as he puts his arm around Kuroo’s waist and kisses the side of his neck. 

An involuntary smile spreads across Kuroo’s face at the sensation as he tilts his head toward the source. 

“Are you going to talk things out with Bokuto?” Oikawa asks, leaning back and propping an elbow on one of the steps behind him. He leaves his other hand on Kuroo’s back, making small circles. 

“I guess I did lose my cool, huh?” 

“Well, it’s not like I’ve  _ ever  _ seen you do that before.” Oikawa’s voice is light and breezy as he speaks his sarcasm. “I’m surprised it took this long for a fight to break out, to be honest.” 

“Everybody else is getting a head start on  _ my _ feelings, and I haven’t even figured them out yet.” As Kuroo speaks his truth, the circling motion on his back stops. The warmth of Oikawa’s hand leaves as he takes it away. 

“What’s there to figure out?” The words he speaks are spread thin by the way his breath is shaking. With another inhale, Oikawa is able to even it out enough to say with confidence, “We only have until tomorrow afternoon.” 

He stands up after saying this, brushing off the back of his shorts for any sand that may have clung to him. Kuroo feels the emptiness next to him to an enormous extent. He wonders for when he returns home, if that emptiness will make its way back inside of him again. 

  
  


The creak of the bedroom door announces Kuroo’s entrance, causing the lump of blankets on Bokuto’s bed to shift. The overhead light is off, so the only illumination is coming from the crack in the curtains. 

Flipping on the light switch and throwing open the curtain causes more movement from the bed. Turning around, Kuroo can see the blanket completely covering the bed and Bokuto— Minus the fingertips clutching the top of it. 

Kuroo jumps on the bed, spreading his arms and legs like a flying squirrel as he dramatically roars. Landing directly on the Bokuto-shaped lump, he feels it squirming beneath him. 

“Please don’t hit me again!” The blankets cry out as they try to wiggle away. 

“I didn’t even hit you, shut the fuck up,” Kuroo says as he wraps his arms around the middle of the blanket, of what he hopes is Bokuto’s stomach/chest area. 

A rogue hand shoots out from the top of the blanket and pulls down the edge, revealing a sliver of Bokuto’s face. “You hit me in the feelings, though.” 

Kuroo sighs. “You are  _ such a baby _ .” 

“Are you here to apologize or to make me feel shittier? Either way, I forgive you.”

“I’m sorry, Bo. You’re not a shitty friend. You’re my best friend, actually.” Kuroo’s face falls forward and he lets his forehead rest on a shoulder shaped blanket lump. 

“I know. You’re my best friend too. Why are we fighting again?” Bokuto slowly sheds his cocoon bit by bit until his face and shoulders are free, tucking the blanket beneath his arm. 

Kuroo has to adjust himself as Bokuto does. “Because you’ve been forcing me to face my feelings and you know how I feel about that.” 

An excited gasp from Bokuto initiates a chaotic scramble on the twin size bed as he turns to face Kuroo, nearly knocking both of them off either edge. “Like love feelings?” 

“Shut up. I will push you off this bed.” 

“You  _ love _ Oikawa.” 

“Bokuto, I swear to god…”

“Oikawa and Kuroo sitting in a-AHH!” Bokuto’s song is cut short as he is shoved off the bed as promised. 

The blanket he is wrapped in falls with him, nearly dragging Kuroo down as well. Looking down at him from the edge of the bed, Kuroo reaches an arm out and quotes one of Bokuto’s favorite movies. “Long live the king.” 

“ _ Noo _ _ o _ _ o _ _ o _ _ o… _ ” Bokuto dramatically grabs his chest as he lays on the floor, pretending to die. 

“Okay, Bokuto, serious question.”

“What is it?” He sits up on the floor, looking intently at Kuroo. 

“Do you have a permanent marker?”

  
  


Around noon, Kuroo and Oikawa decide to finally finish the puzzle they had been neglecting… for other activities. It is nearly complete now, as they piece together the larger portions. There are just a few empty slots for the leftover pieces. They work in silence as they try different ones out. 

“It’s a shame…” Oikawa says, breaking the silence. 

“What is?” Kuroo asks, fitting a piece into its proper place. 

“Building all of this just to tear it down tomorrow.” His voice sounds distant, as if his mind is just as far away. 

“It’s just a puzzle. It’ll get put back together again.” 

“Hmm, true… What if…” There’s a quality to Oikawa’s voice that Kuroo has never heard before. It breaks all of his attention away from the puzzle and locks it onto him. 

“What if what?” 

“Ahh, nothing.” Oikawa exasperates as he rubs his face with his hands. When his face is showing again, it is tinged red. “I was about to say something ridiculously cheesy.” 

“Say it,” Kuroo challenges lightly, leaning forward on the table and resting his chin on his hand. 

“No,” Oikawa says as the red in his cheeks spreads to his ears. 

“If you don’t, I’ll just start shouting out guesses loud enough for the whole house to hear.” 

“No, oh my god, stop…” Oikawa has completely folded into himself, his arms wrapped around his legs and his head buried between his knees. 

Kuroo uses his hands and knees to crawl around the table and get closer to him. He gently untangles Oikawa’s limbs so he can look directly in his face. “Seriously, tell me.” 

Oikawa has the most uncomfortable expression on his face as he mutters, “Something about puzzle pieces and even if they’re apart they can still… get back together since they’re not technically broken.” 

Kuroo tries his best to hide the snicker that tries to escape out of habit. Typically when anyone brings up something like this he laughs it off with a scoff and a shrug. It’s the quickest way to get the other person to leave without him straight up telling them to. 

Oikawa is completely red, and he is unable to hide it because Kuroo still has his wrists seized in his grip. The vision fills Kuroo with an unfamiliar need to reassure the flustered man. 

Despite the fear that is dwelling in the back of his mind, Kuroo goes for it. “That  _ was _ incredibly cheesy, but… I’m up for it if you are.” 

As he speaks the words, it feels like a 20 pound weight lands on his stomach. The soft brown eyes that slowly look up at him through thick lashes takes the heavy feeling away, and replaces it with a light and feathery one.

Finding his patience rapidly dwindling, Kuroo leans forward to kiss him before he can say anything else. It’s soft and light, but with a lot of emotional weight behind it. Kuroo releases Oikawa’s wrists as they both lean into the kiss; he uses one hand to cup Oikawa’s cheek and the other to brace the small of his back. 

A little caught off guard, Oikawa’s hands remain in front of him as Kuroo closes the distance. He grabs the material of Kuroo’s shirt to assert the passion behind his movements. 

Kuroo still being on his knees allows him to easily lean forward as Oikawa starts leaning backwards. A soft, yet forceful, “ _ Ahem _ ,” reminds them that they are still on the living room floor. 

Instantly breaking apart at the announced entrance, Kuroo and Oikawa both look up to see Daichi entering the house. He is carrying a sack of groceries from the food run he had just made. 

“We got ice creeeeam!” Bokuto cheerfully announces as he walks in with a tub of chocolate ice cream, holding it up in the air for all to see. Bokuto’s arms freeze and he gasps as he looks at Kuroo and Oikawa. “Were you guys making out?”

“You ate like five churros yesterday,” Kuroo says as he stands, ignoring Bokuto’s question. 

“That’s between me and my stomach,” Bokuto says with a pat on the aforementioned body part. In a more serious tone, “Akaashi doesn’t need to know anything about it.” 

“Where is Ushijima-san?” Daichi asks as he sets the grocery bag on the counter. 

“Fuck if I know.” Kuroo uses his index finger to pull down the edge of the paper sack. “What kind of snacks did you get?”

“Quit it,” Daichi says as he smacks his hand away. “You’ll spoil the lunch I’m about to make.”

“Oh, but Bokuto’s allowed to eat ice cream before lunch? I see how it is,” Kuroo grumbles as he points a thumb at the subject of his accusation. 

“No, he-BOKUTO!” Daichi exclaims as he turns around to see Bokuto sticking a spoon in the ice cream tub. “I told you to put that in the freezer.” 

As he walks away to seize the ice cream from a pouting Bokuto, Kuroo takes the opportunity to swipe the bag of cookies from the bag. “Hell yeah, chocolate chip!”

Turning around as he closes the freezer, Daichi gives Kuroo a tired look. “I can’t believe you guys are allowed to be adults.”

“What are you gonna do? Arrest me?” Kuroo says with a wink as he exposes his wrists in front of him. 

“There aren’t any laws that prohibit eating dessert before your meal,” Oikawa says as he walks up next to Kuroo, pressing into his side. He grabs a cookie out of the bag and pops it in his mouth. 

“Yeah! Fuck the police!” Bokuto exclaims as he re-opens the freezer to get the ice cream back out. 

“Sugawara already does that,” Kuroo comments as he takes a second cookie. He subconsciously leans into Oikawa, feeling comfort in his warmth. 

Daichi says nothing as he grabs a cookie and dips it in the ice cream. “It’s so good,” he muffles through a full mouth. 

“Did you get any candy?” Oikawa starts to empty the bag, searching for more sweets. 

“WakaWaka! JimJim! UshiUshi!” Bokuto calls down the hallway. 

“What the fuck are you chanting?” Kuroo asks with a sideways glance. 

“I’m trying out new nicknames for Ushiwaka, seeing which I like best.” Turning back towards the hall he shouts again, “WAKAWAKA! It’s safe to come out now! Nothing gay is happening!” 

“Ushiwaka is  _ already _ a nickname,” Kuroo comments as he abandons the cookies on the counter. He walks back over to the coffee table to finish up the puzzle. “And everything Daichi does is gay, so don’t lie to him.” 

“What does that mean?” Daichi asks, holding a cookie with one pinkie out. 

Oikawa breaks down into a fit of laughter at the exchange, having to wipe away a tear as it subsides. Looking down at the puzzle, a realization dawns on his face.

“Tetsu-chan, I don’t think all the pieces are here.”

“No,” Kuroo replies in disbelief. He gathers the few remaining pieces and counts them as Oikawa counts the empty spaces. “There are 12 pieces here.”

“And 23 empty spaces,” Oikawa claims with a sullen tone. 

“Wanna flip the table?” Kuroo asks dangerously, gripping the edges in preparation. 

“Don’t you dare,” Daichi says over the tub of ice cream. He has a large spoonful that he shoves into his mouth. 

“What was that, Daichi? I didn’t hear you.” Kuroo places a hand behind his ear in a sarcastic motion. 

“I seb…” Daichi struggles over the ice cream in his mouth. “Domt…”

“Do it? Okay!” 

With a swift motion, both Kuroo and Oikawa flip the table in pretend rage. The puzzle falls onto the floor in mostly one piece. 

“That wasn’t even satisfying…” Oikawa says with a frown. 

Kuroo starts ripping the puzzle apart with his fingers, dropping them into the box as he does so. The large pieces disintegrate into their individual smaller pieces and fall through the crack between Kuroo’s hands. He discreetly grabs two of the pieces that fit together and pockets them. 

“UshiiiiWakaaa.” Bokuto’s voice drifts from down the hall as he knocks on a door. 

Moments later, a sleepy eyed Ushijima walks down the hall as he tries to suppress a yawn. 

Bokuto follows happily behind him as he chants, “no sleep, no sleep! We can sleep on the plane tomorrow!” 

Clattering noises and a burning smell start to come from the kitchen as Daichi starts preparing food. Kuroo finishes putting up the puzzle and looks up to see Oikawa staring at him with a soft and daydreamy smile. 

A sudden jolt of loneliness surges through Kuroo as he remembers there is only a little over 24 hours before he has to say goodbye to that smile and the complex, magnetic, striking man that comes with it. His hand reaches for his without thought, and he stares at it as his thumb makes circles on the back. Oikawa squeezes it back, instantly curing the uneasiness he had just felt. 

“What happened to the table?” Ushijima asks with a few blinks. He crouches down to sit it upright. 

Kuroo points to the kitchen. “Daichi did it…”

“Shut up, Kuroo.” Daichi calls from the kitchen. “Bokuto, we need some music.” 

“Oh, I am  _ on it _ .”

Bokuto has been buzzing around every inch of the living room and kitchen area since accomplishing his task of waking Ushijima. Hearing this request, he quickly disappears down the hall and returns with an iPod. 

Bubblegum pop music starts playing over the speakers when Bokuto plugs in the aux cord. Kuroo’s internal eye roll is cut short as he sees Oikawa start to sing along to the lyrics. 

Oikawa is on his feet and dancing within seconds, pulling Kuroo up with the hand that he is holding. Holding it up to form an arc over them, Oikawa twirls a few times underneath it. 

The upbeat song sends them swinging back and forth, gripping each other’s hands and releasing when either of them spin. Kuroo is so wrapped up in their dance, he barely notices everyone else joining them. Glancing over, he even sees Daichi dancing with his spatula. 

Giving into the happiness that creeps into his chest, Kuroo feels a release that he has only felt on the previous days of this vacation. The corners of his mouth start to hurt his cheeks because he’s smiling so hard. 

“You guys are so cute,” Bokuto says with a sparkle in his voice. He is holding up his phone camera towards them when Kuroo looks over. 

As much as Kuroo wants to fall back into his instincts of pretending he doesn’t have the capacity to be “cute” with someone, he can’t. He melts as soon as Oikawa lets out a giggle and falls forward onto his chest, hugging around his waist as he looks toward the camera. 

He takes in the coconut scent of Oikawa’s shampoo as they continue to sway to the music, still wrapped in each other’s arms. 

  
  


After lunch, Kuroo and Bokuto busy themselves with the dishes. As much as Daichi appreciates it, he still has a look of speculation when they both volunteer so eagerly. 

“Don’t worry, don’t worry, sit down,” Kuroo says in a soothing tone as he picks up a plate and starts scrubbing it. 

“Yeah, Daichi, you’ve really done enough this trip,” Bokuto adds, picking up a towel off the counter. 

Kuroo realizes as he’s hand washing the dishes he doesn’t actually want to, and the bit they are playing has bitten him in the ass. 

“Bokuto, can we switch?” Kuroo asks with a groan in his voice. 

Bokuto happily rinses and dries the dishes as they come his way. “No.” 

A mischievous smile cracks on Kuroo’s face as he is struck with an idea. With one sling of his left arm, a wave of dirty dish water splashes onto Bokuto. 

“Kuroo, what the fuck!” He screams as he grabs the sprayer on the sink and starts dousing Kuroo with it. 

Chaos ensues as they both fight for the sprayer. Bokuto is clutching the trigger the entire time, causing a haphazard fountain to form between them as they wrestle. 

“What is happening?” Daichi exclaims in horror, his face a stark white as he walks in on the scene. 

Bokuto and Kuroo go very still when they see him, the sprayer still in full stream above them. They are soaked from the shoulders down, and both give Daichi a similarly sheepish grin as Bokuto finally releases the trigger. 

“We’re helping,” Kuroo explains with a weak shrug. 

“...” Daichi remains there, speechless. 

“... I’ll go get the mop,” Bokuto says as he feeds the hose back into its slot. As he walks away, he mutters, “do mops work on the ceiling…?”

“Okay, so we kind of failed at this, but we did get you a present.” Kuroo says this in the sweetest way possible. 

“A what?” Daichi asks as his eyes focus back on him and off of the water dripping from the ceiling. 

“We got you a gift!” Kuroo takes the towel and starts soaking up the water from the counter. 

Bokuto enters with the mop and starts jabbing at the ceiling. It seems to work for the most part, besides the textured paint that sprinkles down. 

“Looks like you’ve got this covered,” Kuroo says, patting Bokuto on the shoulder. “I’m gonna go grab Daichi’s gift.”

“Don’t give it to him without me!” Bokuto calls after him, just before a loud clatter comes from the same direction. “I’m okay!” 

Kuroo chuckles as he imagines what kind of added chaos Bokuto just incited in the kitchen. There are multiple scenes that flash into his head that replicate the danger he had to have felt to assure everyone he was okay. 

With limited wrapping options, Kuroo had to resort to using a paper sack from one of the souvenir shops they had been to. In large letters on the front, “For Daicchan” is written in permanent marker. 

Everyone is gathered in the living room when he returns. Bokuto guides Daichi to the armchair, pressing down on his shoulders to get him to sit. Every other second a bubble of laughter escapes from Bokuto’s pursed lips as he watches Kuroo hand him the bag. 

Daichi tentatively takes the bag, distrustful eyes shooting between Kuroo and Bokuto. 

“Open it, open it,” Bokuto says with a pained look on his face from holding back his amusement. 

“What’s it for? My birthday is in December.” Daichi waits for an answer as he holds onto the crumpled up bag. 

“For planning this trip, duh.” Kuroo opens the camera app on his phone and begins recording. “Open it!” 

The crinkled sound of the bag opening precedes a confused look from Daichi as he pulls a plain white t-shirt out of it. Unfolding the shirt and looking at the front, his face registers the words on it. He clutches it to his chest as he bursts out into laughter. 

“Turn it around,” Kuroo instructs from behind the camera. 

Daichi whips it around to show everyone. “I ♥ My Tiny Whistle” is written in permanent marker across the chest. 

“Thanks guys,” he says through his laughter. “I’ll wear this with pride.”

“You better!” Kuroo stops recording, satisfied with the results. 

He walks over to the couch where Oikawa is sitting and sits so close to him they are only taking up one cushion. Oikawa pivots and drapes his legs over Kuroo’s, leaning his back on the armrest. 

A soft touch traces down Kuroo’s left arm as Oikawa’s fingers find their way to his hand. He grabs it and places it in his lap. He starts playing with his fingers, bending them and fitting his own fingers between them. Kuroo leaves his hand limp and malleable for him, watching the movements his fingers make. 

Suddenly, an incessant buzzing comes from Oikawa’s pocket. He pulls it out and reveals the caller’s identity. 

_ Pretty Setters Squad is calling…  _

“That’s what the group chat is called?” Kuroo laughs out loud. 

“It keeps getting changed, but I personally like this one best.” Oikawa answers the video call with a swipe, revealing two drunken faces on his screen. 

The current time in Montevideo, Uruguay is 1:13 PM. The current time in Sendai, Japan is 1:13 AM. 

“Heyyyy,” Akaashi and Sugawara greet them in a unified slur. They are both sunk deeply into the couch they are sitting on. 

Kuroo gathers from the background that they are at the Sawamura-Sugawara household. 

“Where is Daichi?” Sugawara asks in the demanding tone of a toddler. 

“Yeah, and where is Bokuto?” Akaashi adds in as well, the glass of wine in his hand slinging dangerously with the dark liquid inside. 

“Why didn’t you just call them?” Oikawa asks in an irritated voice. 

“Ah, thought we did… We didn’t… interrupt you guys, did we?” Sugawara asks in a teasing voice, noticing the two that are on the screen. His eyes are lazily slanted as he smirks at the two. 

Bokuto sticks his face in front of Kuroo’s, hindering his view of the screen. “Keiji!” 

“Tarou-kun!” Both voices are full of elation. “I miss you so fucking much!”

“I miss you more!” 

Daichi walks to the side of the couch beside Oikawa and leans in as well, both of them taking up the entire screen. “Suga, is that you?”

“Okay, you know what?” Oikawa says in a pissed off voice. “Back up, this is my phone.” 

Breaking through the minimal space Daichi and Bokuto left, Oikawa leans forward off the couch and props his phone up against an abandoned glass of water. The positioning gives a view for everyone now, including Ushijima who is watching with curiosity. 

After turning the volume up to max, a sudden crash comes from the background of the call. Sugawara’s shocked expression quickly turns to anger as he looks towards the source. 

“ _ I thought I told you to take that volleyball outside!”  _

The rage in his voice is almost palpable as he stands and leaves the frame of the call, rushing toward the two voices that say “sorry” with little sincerity. 

“What’s going on over there?” Daichi asks, probably concerned for his breakables. 

Akaashi looks bored as he takes a sip of his wine. He sighs as he explains, “Kageyama found out Atsumu has a thing for Hinata. Now they’re comparing jump serves like it's their dick size or something.” 

“I bet I could beat them,” Oikawa mutters from his spot next to Kuroo. Kuroo gives him a light pat of affirmation. 

Bokuto laughs hysterically at the story. “Is Hinata even there?” 

“No, we somehow managed to get Kageyama to leave him at home this time.” The frame of the video swerves as Akaashi loses his grip on the phone and drops it into his lap. “Whoops. Oh no… Daichi, I may have just spilled wine on your couch… And my phone, oh fuck oh fuck, gotta go.” 

Daichi sighs as the video call is disconnected with three soft beeps. “I just paid that off.”

“Sucks for you,” Oikawa says with a laugh as he snatches his phone back. 

Kuroo catches a glimpse of the group chat that the screen reverted back to when the call ended. There are several recent messages from Oikawa with reactions and replies. Kuroo wishes he could peek further and read them, just to know what is being said about him; if he even is worth being talked about. 

  
  
  


Of all the memories this trip would leave imprinted on Kuroo, he hopes the feeling is what sticks with him the most. Even if he forgets the jokes that were made, every detail of Oikawa’s touches, or every beautiful sunset he had witnessed next to four of his best friends; as long as he can keep the feeling of complete optimism that they are bringing him, he can do without the memories. 

The last sunset of their trip begins to dip below the horizon, leaving a gleaming trail on the ocean’s gentle waves. Oikawa is leaning into Kuroo’s chest as they both sit on the beach, Kuroo supporting both of their weight with his arms. Even when his elbows start to strain he remains still, reveling in the feeling of soft brown hair resting so close to his heart. 

He lets the warmth sink into his chest, wishing that the sun would stay suspended where it is, just barely peeking above the surface of the water. The permanence of the moment is snuffed out as the last ray of sunlight disappears beneath the horizon. 

Despite the yawns that give away the groups’ sleepiness, they refuse to let the night die. They manage to fit all five of them on the couch, huddled in blankets as they start a movie on the television. 

Not even an hour in, a few light snores come from Bokuto’s side of the couch. Glancing over, Kuroo sees that Daichi pressed into the back of the couch with his mouth wide open. Bokuto is leaning against Daichi’s shoulder, just as Ushijima is leaning against his. The sight of all three of them fast asleep has Kuroo imagining them as fallen dominoes. 

A quick nudge of an elbow grabs Oikawa’s attention. He had been fixated on the TV screen since the movie started. Kuroo had been fixated on him. He nods to the slumbering captains and gives him a waggle of his eyebrows. 

Oikawa responds with a smirk as he reads Kuroo’s silent intentions loud and clearly. They both stand quietly, Oikawa being a bit more careful as not to jostle Ushijima as he leaves the space next to him empty. 

The two of them escape, assumingly undiscovered, and make their way to Oikawa’s claimed room. Although, for the last few nights, Kuroo had considered this room as his also. 

Their footsteps are as soft as the way the door closes, barely making a sound as it latches. A similar softness flows from Oikawa’s eyes into his touch, softer than Kuroo had felt as of yet. His skin is soft, his whispers are soft, the lashes that frame his brown eyes are soft. Even his kisses are soft. 

Despite the gentleness, a heaviness lies beneath every movement. Every brush of the lips on different parts of his body weighs deep within Kuroo’s chest, and somehow pulls him even closer to Oikawa. 

This type of intensity was one that Kuroo knows, without a doubt, he had never felt before. The impact of the significant body pressing into his is almost enough to make him weep. 

The sea breeze drifting through the open window billows the sheer curtains upward. It brushes against their sweaty skin, sending a shiver down Kuroo’s back as Oikawa digs his fingernails in deeper. The moonlight is bright enough to illuminate all of Oikawa’s features as he lay beneath him, completely vulnerable. 

His expression twists as his eyes close and his chin tilts upwards, his neck glistening with the mixture of sweat and moonlight. Dark spots are starting to appear in different places on his skin where Kuroo’s mouth and teeth had lingered too long. 

The beautiful sight beneath him is enough to take him over the edge, but he holds out for as long as he can. He wants to be able to associate this memory with the insatiable feeling he is experiencing, while still being wholly present in the moment. 

“You are so fucking gorgeous,” Kuroo breathes into Oikawa’s ear as he feels his entire existence lifted to its pinnacle. 

Oikawa’s raspy moans intensify as Kuroo hangs on just a little longer, riding out his climax as Oikawa’s grip on his back clenches suddenly with the shuddering of his body. The feeling of a deeply fresh scratch stings Kuroo’s back, only adding to the euphoria he has found himself enveloped in. 

Rolling onto his back in an effort to allow some air between them, Kuroo breathes heavily as his oxygen levels rise back to normalcy. Almost instantly, Oikawa closes the space by cuddling into his chest and hugging him tightly. Kuroo doesn’t need to breathe as much as he needs to feel this skin on his. 

After stroking his hair in silence for a few moments, he tucks a finger beneath Oikawa’s chin and lifts it so that he’s looking at him. The eyes that meet him are swimming with emotions that he can’t quite read. 

In Kuroo’s years of experience, opening his mouth and saying something is usually his first mistake. So instead, he connects their lips as gingerly as possible and tries to convey his feelings that way. 

There’s a hunger that lies beneath the kiss, full of exasperated energy. It brings a lump to Kuroo’s throat as he realizes once more that this is their last night together. He feels the heat of Oikawa’s skin seep into him as he holds him a bit too tightly. 

Continuously running his hands up and down the man’s back and chest, Kuroo is memorizing every curve and edge that make up his new favorite shape: Oikawa. 

The shivers that he feels beneath his touch excite him, as he is not sure he has ever brought anyone’s body to this point before. The heat of their bodies and the summer night’s air has them enveloped in a sauna like warmth, yet Oikawa’s skin is covered in goosebumps. 

There is an ocean of emotions filling Kuroo’s mind, causing his brain to swim in circles. As the salty air clings to his skin in the same way he clings to Oikawa, he feels as though a leaky latch is positioned in the space between his head and chest. The whirlpool he feels in his head lashes against it, but his heart is fighting to keep the rusted bolts from giving out. 

The vibration of lips moving against his chest snaps him back to reality as Oikawa murmurs, “I’ll never forget this… Or you…” 

These tentative words wash over Kuroo’s skin in a wave, melting the icy part of his chest that is keeping the latch closed. With every drip that trickles through the leak, it creaks in a way that leaves a searing twinge in his chest. 

Kuroo remains silent, but Oikawa has more to say. “I wish I could stay right here forever… With you…”

The latch jostles in place as Kuroo’s heart gets even weaker, the drips turning into a stream that begins collecting a pool in the bottom of his chest. 

The soft breaths that have been steady against his chest begin to labor as Oikawa’s shoulders start to quiver. The trembling man in his arms feels helpless as Kuroo tightens the hug. He wishes he knew a way to convey his own helplessness back to him. 

“I’m going to miss you…” Oikawa’s shaky voice is muffled by the skin of Kuroo’s chest. A sudden flood rushes into his chest cavity. The latch has finally broken open. The rush fills his chest to the point of swelling. 

“Don’t think for one second that a stupid little ocean can keep me from you,” Kuroo says in a strong and soothing voice that he almost doesn’t recognize as his own. 

“It did for all these years…” The point that Oikawa makes is sharp and stabbing. “... But that was my fault too.”

The breath that Kuroo had caught in his throat is released as he realizes a few things at once: he is undoubtedly in love with Oikawa, nothing outside of this room is as important as him, and the reality of their situation is for them to decide. 

“Please, like you actually wanted to be in a long distance relationship during your early 20s.” Kuroo starts to gain some confidence as his words progress. “But you’re turning 25 in a few months, right?” 

Oikawa does some mental math before answering. “Yeah…?”

“Mid-Twenties seems like a good time to start…” 

“Hmm.” Oikawa says before falling into a thoughtful silence. 

As the silence prolongs, Kuroo begins to feel the flood in his heart start to sour. It’s in every crevice now, and would be futile to try and push away. A panic is slowly starting to spread. 

His head has felt empty since the great shift of emotions into his chest. It begins to fill with familiar phrases of self-deprecation, each word cutting and making more sense than the last. 

_ You’re so fucking stupid, how could you say that? _

_ As if he’d be willing to try something like that for  _ you.

_ The Pacific ocean is like 15,000 kilometers at  _ least _ why did I call it little? _

_ Oikawa is too cool to be in a long distance relationship.  _ I’m _ too cool to be in a long distance relationship. Seriously how have I let this guy get me to to act like a— _

“We can try…” Oikawa says, halting all processing in Kuroo’s brain. 

“Yeah?”

Kuroo feels a bit weak for being the first to cave like this. He remembers what Oikawa told him he drunkenly said before he left for Argentina. The embarrassment bubbles inside of his stomach as he considers how desperate he must seem. 

“Yeah.” There’s a smile playing in his tone, and Kuroo can feel the way his face shifts against his chest. 

Every interaction with Oikawa seems bittersweet, but Kuroo is trying to compartmentalize that as his own overreactions to every tiny detail. The bitter feeling of not knowing Oikawa’s true intentions or thoughts is nothing compared to the sweet rush of bliss that the feeling of his smile gives him. 

From there, their conversation eases into fluffy pillow talk. Ellipses of silence are sandwiched in between as they both lie awake with their brains on fire. When either of them come up with a memory or an anecdote, they break the silence easily. 

“You’ve been with Daichi…” Oikawa starts, with a curious tone. “Tell me. Does he really have a tiny whistle?”

“Oh hell no,” Kuroo answers immediately. “The man is gifted. That’s why he can take jokes like that so lightly.” 

Oikawa disintegrates into giggles.

For the most part, they are just waiting for the inevitable sunrise. Despite the heavy feeling of his eyelids, Kuroo somehow manages to stay awake through the sheer will of not wanting to miss an instant of the time he has left with Oikawa. 

The light of day seems out of place as it slowly brightens the walls of the bedroom, casting shadows in Kuroo’s heavy heart. He watches as the pigments of Oikawa’s skin change shades with every increment of light that creeps in. 

Outside of Oikawa’s door, the sounds of shuffling and doors opening signify the rest of the house is waking up. A few deep voices can be heard, but no words can be made from them. Kuroo does his best to ignore them, bringing the blanket over his and Oikawa’s heads to shield them even further from the outside world. 

The sunlight makes its way through the threading of the blanket, splashing golden patterns across Oikawa’s skin. Kuroo feels like he hasn’t touched enough of it yet, and wonders if he ever will feel that way. 

There is a glimmer in Oikawa’s tired eyes and a playful smirk on his lips, revealing to Kuroo that he feels the same way. As he opens his mouth to say something, he is cut short by a loud banging on the door. 

“Kuroo? Oikawa-kun? Wake up already! We only have half a day left!” Bokuto’s voice carries easily through the solid wood of the door. 

“Ignore him,” Oikawa says with an authoritative tone. 

He pulls the blankets off of them and mounts Kuroo, straddling him as he leans down and starts to make out with him. Kuroo reaches behind his head and clutches the headboard in reaction to Oikawa’s attentive touches. 

The banging on the door grows impatient, taking fewer breaks in between the knocks. 

“Bokuto, leave them alone,” is barely heard from Daichi, whose voice is much lower in volume. 

Kuroo is only paying attention to the hips and legs that are encasing his waist, moving his hand to pull at the elastic band on Oikawa’s underwear. 

“If you don’t come out right now, I’m opening the door!”

Kuroo freezes his movements and looks at Oikawa above him. 

“Don’t worry, I locked it,” Oikawa reassures him as he lowers himself to suck on the side of Kuroo’s neck, just below his ear. 

Kuroo’s head is emptied at the contact, feeling the heated chills run down his body and into his groin. He runs a hand down Oikawa’s back and into his underwear, pushing them down as he grabs at the excess flesh there. 

A sudden rush of wind comes from the opposite direction of the window, which confuses Kuroo slightly. 

“Oh my god!” 

“Bokuto shut the door  _ now! _ ” Daichi’s voice is full of demanding fear. 

Kuroo manages to peek around Oikawa right as the door is slammed shut, seeing only a sliver of Daichi’s expression before it closes. Glancing back up at Oikawa, he sees a mischievous smirk on his face. 

“I cannot believe you,” Kuroo says with an amused scoff. 

He flips the two of them so that he is on top, Oikawa’s legs still wrapped around him. 

“I know, I’m the worst,” Oikawa replies with a laugh. 

After an anything-but-quick round of teasing Oikawa senseless as punishment, the two take a shower in the bathroom that is connected to the master bedroom. Even in this unflatteringly bright bathroom lighting, Oikawa looks stunning. The water smooths over his skin as if it’s marble, hugging every curve of his frame in shiny ribbons. 

The shower that is supposed to be cleansing them is only filling Kuroo with more dirty thoughts, leading to him pressing Oikawa against the tiled wall. The coolness of the tiles makes Oikawa yelp in surprise just before his exclamation drops an octave to groan in pleasure. 

  
  


“Tetsu-chan, what the hell is this?” Oikawa asks as he turns away from the mirror, pointing at the darkened hickey on the side of his neck. 

Kuroo shrugs nonchalantly as he rubs a towel into his hair, but he can’t help the victorious smile that creeps onto his face. 

Oikawa’s jaw has fallen in shock, and his hand is pressed against the side of his neck. His expression shifts into something malicious as he closes the gap between them, causing Kuroo to take a staggered step back. 

“C’mon, you know I have to get you back now,” Oikawa explains, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him in. 

Kuroo struggles to get away from his grasp. “No, no, I have a professional job.”

“I’m a  _ professional _ volleyball player!” Oikawa is pressed against him, his mouth darting for Kuroo’s neck that is guarded by his chin firmly pressing against his shoulder. 

“I work with kids sometimes!” 

Kuroo’s laughter is loud and bubbly as he contorts his body away from Oikawa’s advancing mouth. The lightness he feels in his chest makes him feel like he’s floating. A sudden jab of wiggling fingers into his side causes him to cease his resistance. As soon as Oikawa’s tickling has done its job in creating an opening, he latches his teeth into the flesh there. 

This brings a weakness to Kuroo’s knees, making him stumble before he catches his footing. Oikawa’s grip on him is strong enough to hold him up alone, his arms and fingers confidently wrapped around Kuroo’s frame. 

Seeming satisfied with his work, Oikawa releases his hold; but not before giving him a quick and adorable smooch on the lips. Kuroo’s lips tingle with the air that hits them afterwards, missing the warmth that had just left them. 

“We should probably join the others,” Oikawa says as he looks down at the hand he had taken from Kuroo. He gently rubs circles into it. 

“Yeah, I haven’t even packed to leave yet,” Kuroo admits as he finishes dressing himself. 

  
  
  


Entering his shared room, Kuroo sees that Bokuto has the same idea. Upon his bed, he has spread out several objects that he had acquired during his time in Montevideo. 

He is muttering to himself as he takes inventory. 

“This one’s for Hinata… this is for Tsum-Tsum… Omi-Omi is going to love this one… and…” a horrified gasp stops his sentence short as he looks over to Kuroo with a shocked expression. 

“Dude, what?” Kuroo asks with a raised brow as he picks up his duffle bag and places it on his bed. 

“ _ I didn’t get anything for Akaashi! _ ” The panic in his voice is palpable as he starts looking through the souvenirs, mumbling about how he must have made a mistake. 

Kuroo laughs at his friend’s predicament, offering, “Well, at least you have that super sexy tan line going for ya.”

He gestures toward his own face, referencing the lighter circles around Bokuto’s eyes. 

“How was I supposed to know you’re supposed to put sunscreen on your  _ face _ ?!” Bokuto tries to defend himself. 

“Uh, because there’s skin there?” 

Bokuto throws his arms up. “Kuroo, what am I going to do? I can't go home without anything for him!”

“Just grab something at the airport, they’ve got loads of souvenirs there.” 

“That’s not the same! He’ll know!” Bokuto quickly tosses the items back into his bag before turning back to Kuroo. “Will you go into town with me?”

“Into town? You mean down the street to the vendors?” 

“Yes!! Please!” Bokuto’s begging is lackluster at best. 

“I dunno…” Kuroo has already decided to help, but continues to fold his clothes and put them in his bag in an act of disinterest. 

“Please, please, please. I kept waiting to find something perfect and I guess I never did…” Bokuto is all but on his knees now, leaning forward onto Kuroo’s bed while pleading. 

“Ugh, fine, but get your sticky hands away from my clothes.” 

“My hands are not sticky…” Bokuto says this with little confidence, clenching and unclenching his fists just to be sure. “They’re not sticky.” 

“We should bring Oikawa since he’s the only one of us that knows Spanish.”

“Mhm, that’s why you want him to come…” A smug smile is resting on Bokuto’s face when Kuroo looks his way. 

“I also want to hold his hand, and spend as much time with him before we leave as I can,” Kuroo openly admits, taking away the fun of Bokuto’s teasing. 

“I can’t wait to talk about this trip at your wedding.”

“Okay, shut the fuck up,” Kuroo replies with a groan. He raises a brow and challenges, “like you can even talk about marriage. I don’t see a ring on your finger.” 

Bokuto’s response is limited only to a flustered scoff as he throws his arms in the air, stomping off with nothing to say. 

  
  


Their trip to the market stalls is frenzied, rushed by the impending departure flight set for that afternoon. As Bokuto flurries around looking for the perfect souvenir, Oikawa and Kuroo stroll hand-in-hand down the street. The sun is directly above them, casting no shadows on the ground. It makes the day look endless, even though Kuroo knows better. Still, he lets the warmth of Oikawa’s hand equate to the warmth of the endless sunlight. 

He tries not to focus on the fact that he’s only had hours of feeling secure enough to touch Oikawa every time his heart beat with the urge to. Light rubs on his back, a simple squeeze of his arm, slowly easing the ache that had built up during his repressed longing. Oikawa did it too; hugging him by the waist, lacing his fingers through the gaps in Kuroo’s, leaning in close to his ear to whisper comedic observational comments.

Kuroo realizes this has been their one and only date. 

When Bokuto finds them again, they are sitting on a bench eating ice cream. He is holding a bag full of several different items, assumingly unable to choose just one. Oikawa casually licks his ice cream cone as he looks down at his phone. 

“What time was your flight again?” He asks as he clumsily taps his screen with his nondominant hand. 

“4:30,” Kuroo responds, his arm is draped over his shoulder.

“Well, it’s almost 3:00.” 

“Oh, shit.” Kuroo nearly chokes on his ice cream. “Daichi’s going to murder us.” 

  
  
  
  


With only minutes left together, their arms and hands are intertwined in the backseat of the rental vehicle as Daichi speeds his way to the airport. Ushijima’s hand is clenching the handle on the roof so hard that his knuckles have turned white. 

Oikawa’s flight is just a bit later in the evening with a different airline. He walks with them as far as airport security, holding Kuroo’s hand the whole way. When he releases it to go in for a hug, a throbbing feeling aches in Kuroo’s palm. 

He leans into the hug with all he can, almost certain he is about to squeeze all of the air out of him. He wants to impress as much of Oikawa into himself as possible. All that Kuroo ever wants to inhale is the smell of teakwood that dances on Oikawa’s skin. 

He finally pulls his face away from the nook in Oikawa’s neck to look at his face, placing a hand on the side of it. All of his motions have a buzzing sense of patience despite the ticking of the clock, and Daichi’s impatient foot tapping. 

Their kiss is lingering and painful, bordering on scary. Kuroo can’t begin to imagine what is going to happen from the moment their lips break away until the next time they see each other. 

“Bye for now,” he says after he finally manages to pull his lips away. His face is solemn, but Oikawa’s is bright. 

He chuckles before cheerfully replying, “bye for now.” 

Kuroo wants to bottle up a bit of that sunshine to take home with him, but he’s not sure how. 

“Oh wait, I almost forgot I stole these,” Kuroo says as he digs in his pocket. “It’s stupid, but here.” 

Oikawa looks at the piece of cardboard in his hand for a few seconds before realizing its puzzle shape. His smile widens with every flip of the piece in his hands, eyes seeming to sparkle. He tugs at Kuroo’s shirt and kisses him again, a fleeting moment full of many unconveyed emotions. 

He pushes Kuroo away now, gesturing toward the group headed back to Japan. They have already started making their own way through security. 

“See ya.” Oikawa sends him off with a wink and a flirty wave. 

Kuroo is in the process of etching the scene into his brain when he finally catches up to the rest of the crew. Their gate is already full of people waiting to board when they arrive, as boarding time is just minutes away. 

“Wow, Kuroo, like you didn’t get enough last night?,” Daichi asks in a teasing tone, full of self-indulgence. 

“Haha yeah, Kuroo, have you even seen your neck?” Bokuto asks in a similar tone of voice. 

“You guys weren’t even trying to be quiet last night.” This voice is just as teasing as the rest of them. 

Kuroo is shocked at Ushijima’s interjection, falling slightly forward before catching himself. 

“Whatever,” he says in a dismissive voice. “As if Bokuto would have been any quieter if Akaashi was on this trip.” 

“It’s called  _ passion _ .” Bokuto leans against the wall as there is no seating in the crowded terminal. 

“I’m sure you’ll show him all sorts of  _ passion _ when you get home.” 

“Hell yeah, I’ll probably give him head while he’s driving us home from the airport.” Bokuto’s voice carries, and a few people look their way. 

“You can’t shame the shameless,” Daichi shrugs as he picks up his bag to begin the boarding process. 

“Whatever, just wake me up when we get to Japan,” Kuroo responds with a yawn. He is fully prepared to sleep for the entirety of the 2-day flight back home. 

Just before he boards the plane and exits the wifi hotspot his phone had automatically reconnected to, he gets a buzz of a notification. It’s a Facebook message from Oikawa Tooru. 

  
  


**Messenger**

**Oikawa Tooru** just now

I already miss you. 

**Author's Note:**

> I made a playlist for this to keep my inspiration going, you can check it out here (playlist cover also made by me): https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0LGaTTuZu9o47ABLY0drAg?si=yNLcIHUATvGPl7CxXlJjaA
> 
> I poured my heart and soul into this, I really really hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did creating it.


End file.
